


The Night of the Stricken Soldier

by Esgalnen



Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Burns, Gen, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esgalnen/pseuds/Esgalnen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Badly injured while trying to rescue 2 children, James West is rescued by a member of Richmond's Girls - these women's first task is to treat his burns - and then to transport him somewhere he can recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. These burns are serious....

The Night of the Stricken Soldier

 

It had been a good mission.  No injuries and she’d been able to send the telegraph without arousing suspicion, leave the information in a drop box and slip away. _A great assignment_ , she thought, _quick, simple and ultimately satisfying_.  Despite her saying that she couldn’t play an airhead, Marcia Dennison had given her some tips and she would try them the next time she had the opportunity. 

She was moving slowly along the dirt road to the nearby town of Golden when she saw the smoke, something big was burning.  Turning the mare’s head, she dug her heels into the flanks and cantered towards it.

The smoke became heavier and as she turned the corner she saw the house and saw the flames licking at the building.  She could hear men’s voices shouting and from an upstairs room the terrified screams of two children. 

At first she thought she’d ride around to the front to help the men with the fire and then she saw the two pale faces at the window and made her decision.  Already the heat from the fire was intense; gingerly she manoeuvred her mount as close to the wall as she could and then carefully stood up on her mare’s back.  Carefully using the muzzle of her rifle she knocked out the glass, the two children were cowering on the bed, “Come on!” she beckoned to them.  Both seemed to be frozen with terror, but suddenly the boy moved, pulling the girl across the room. 

“Take my sister,” he said, pushing the little girl towards her.

She reached in and scooped the little girl into her arms, gently easing her onto the saddle, “Stay,” she ordered, “I’ll be back with your brother.”

The boy was white-faced when she stood up again, “The flames are inside the room!” he whimpered.  She could see them licking up the sides of the door.

“What are you waiting around here for?” she demanded. “Come on!”

Trembling he allowed her to lift him into her arms and she eased herself down into the saddle still holding the youngster. She set him in front of her and said, “Let me dismount and then we’ll take you to your parents.”

“I’m Jane,” the little girl said, when she was standing at the horse’s head, “this is my brother, Tom.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Elizabeth said.

She led the horse around the front of the house and stopped, a man and woman were holding one another and sobbing hysterically, but it was the group of men kneeling beside the supine figure that made her pause.  The boy and girl spoke simultaneously, “Dad, Mum!” and the parents looked up shocked and then the children were slipping down from the animal’s back and into the arms of the adults.

One of the men turned and Elizabeth gasped, “Artemus!”  And then she had to stop herself being sick as she saw the figure the men were working on was none other than James West. 

Artemus was on his feet and walking across to her, “It’s Jim, Elizabeth,” he said tautly.

Swallowing her nausea and fear, she walked across to the unconscious figure and knelt down.  “What happened?” she asked softly.

“He went into the house after the kids,” Artemus replied, “He was trying to break through the door when I finally dragged him out of the house.  He’s been badly hurt.”

“How badly?” She finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Artemus swallowed, “some smoke inhalation, he was trying to break the door down with his bare hands when I found him.  I had to use one of his own tricks on him-” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and he clarified, “pressure points.”

Gently she examined him and then sat back on her heels, “Those burns are serious, Artemus.”  Turning to one of the men she snapped, “get me a bucket of cold water, cold as you can make it, and some sheets.” 

For a moment or two they looked nonplussed and then she felt Artie’s hand firm on her shoulder and heard his voice say, “Do as she asks.”

When the water arrived she tore the sheets in half and pushed them into the bucket, once they were soaked she took them out and began draping them over West’s arms and face.  “I’ll need another clean sheet,” she ordered.  As the soaked sheets began to warm through, she carefully removed them and replaced them with the new ones, she was doing this for the second time when Artemus said, “Let me help.”

“With pleasure,” Elizabeth said softly, looking up.  He knelt on the other side of his friend and began doing the same thing, they were replacing the sheets for the third time when he asked, “How long do we have to do this?”

“Twenty minutes,” Elizabeth replied, her face white and tense.

“Then?”

“We move him to the doctor’s office,” Elizabeth managed a wan smile, “and leave him to be treated.”

“I can think of no-one better equipped to treat him than you,” Artemus replied, then his expression became sombre, “how bad is it, Elizabeth?”

She looked up at him, and shook her head, “I won’t know that until I get him on the table.”

Artemus nodded quietly.  Elizabeth watched him for a couple of minutes and then turned back to her task.  Finally she sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm.  “We’d better get him out of here.”

Artemus nodded and lifted Jim into his arms as if he was a child, laying him gently in the back of the wagon.  “I’ll stay with him,” he said shortly.

“I never expected otherwise,” Beth replied, “you can keep an eye on his breathing.”

Artemus knelt beside his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder.  Beth eyed him thoughtfully as she climbed into the back of the wagon and knelt down on the other side of the unconscious man.  “Jesus, Jim,” she heard Artie mutter, “don’t give up on me for Christ’s sake.”

The doctor was waiting for them when they arrived, “Everything’s prepared,” he began tersely, “if you could carry him inside and then I’ll begin.”

“Eliza- Dr Mackenzie is a qualified physician-” Artemus began and as the man’s mouth twisted in a moue of disdain, Artie’s lips thinned and he said, “Dr Mackenzie is Mr West’s physician and she is in charge here.”

“Not in my surgery-” the man began, but to Beth’s everlasting joy she heard Artemus say, “then we’ll find somewhere else.  I’m sure there are any number of families who’d offer us a room to treat Mr West.”

“She won’t get any help from me!” the man snapped.  “Or my assistant.”

For an answer Artemus shrugged, “Then we’ll rent a room in the hotel – can you treat him there, Beth?”

She nodded quickly, her eyes never leaving his face, and then suddenly one of the men said, “That’s not necessary, Mr Gordon, my wife will be more than willing to give you our spare room, and assist you if necessary Dr MacKenzie,” he turned to Beth, and then back to the doctor, “unless of course you’re willing to allow Dr Mackenzie to treat her patient here Dr Wallace.”

The doctor didn’t react and the man said, “I’m Matthew Whelan, if you would follow me.”

Matthew Whelan’s house was a short distance from the physician’s.   He led them to the spare room, “Will this do, Dr MacKenzie?”

“I think so,” Beth replied, managing a taut smile. 

“I’m Cynthia Whelan,” a woman came through from the kitchen, wiping her hands.  “I have some nursing experience, I can assist you if you wish.”

“I would appreciate that,” Beth replied, “I need some items first, and then we can begin.”

When she’d give the list to Mrs Whelan, Artemus touched her shoulder, “Give me something to do,” he begged, “or I shall run mad.”

She nodded and said quietly, “Go to Manafee, see if you can find American Knife and Dr O’Neill.  I’ll keep an eye on Jim.”

He bent and kissed her forehead and then he was gone, leaving her with the unconscious man.  Jim was still unconscious when Cynthia returned with the items Beth had requested.  “I could use your help,” Beth said, “copy what I do.”

With Mrs Whelan standing on the other side of the bed, Elizabeth began preparing her materials, including the pillowcases, the wax paper and the jar of honey.  Placing the two sheets of wax paper on top of the pillowcases she carefully laid them on top of the unconscious man’s legs, then she washed her hands waiting until Cynthia did the same.  Carefully she lifted Jim’s wrist and with her other hand slid the paraffin paper and pillowcase beneath his arm.  She took out a ladleful of honey and began to pour it over the arm.  It ran over the skin and dripped down onto the pillowcase.  She continued to pour the honey over the arm and hand, then she carefully bandaged his hand, being careful to wrap each finger separately then carefully lifting the edges of the paper to wrap it around the honeyed arm and hand.  Cynthia copied her until Jim’s arms and hands were covered in the honey, wax paper, and pillowcase and then bandaged.  Beth stepped back and wiped the back of her arm across her forehead, looking up she could see that Cynthia Whelan was also perspiring, “Those burns look serious, Dr MacKenzie.”

“They are,” Beth replied. “However, I’ve seen honey work miracles.”

 

_Jim fought his way to consciousness, everything was fuzzy.  He forced open heavy eyelids and stared up into Beth’s familiar face, he swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but he had no voice, her hand was on his head and she was holding a cup to his lips, “Drink slowly,” she ordered._

_Jim didn’t have the energy to contradict her. **Did she know he’d failed? That he’d fought his way up the burning staircase and tried to get to the children**.  He swallowed again, tears blurring his vision.  Beth gently ran her hand through his hair “Try to sleep,” she said softly, “we’ll talk later.”_

 

Beth eyed the now unconscious man.  Jim had roused briefly and drank some water, and she’d managed to get some laudanum down him but Beth hoped that Artemus would be bringing her colleagues back soon because she knew that the pain of his burns would rouse him sooner than she’d liked and there was no other pain relief she could use.  She considered anaesthetizing him with chloroform but that too had risks.  Closing her eyes, she sent a silent prayer heavenwards.

“Are you all right, Dr Mackenzie?” Cynthia asked quickly.

“Just concerned,” Beth dredged a smile from somewhere.

“I can understand that,” Cynthia replied, “will he be all right if you leave him for a little?”

Beth looked down at the unconscious figure of James West and nodded, “I think so.”

She followed Cynthia down the hall to a well-equipped kitchen.  Taking the coffee pot from the stove, Mrs Whelan poured them both a mug of coffee and pushed one across to Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, the boy peered around the corner.  Seeing that it was clear, he turned back to the little girl standing next to him, “There’s no-one around,” he said, “come on, Jane.”

Carefully Tom opened the door and gestured for Jane to enter the room, both children stood staring at the supine figure in the bed, his arms heavily bandaged and a thick yellow layer of Vaseline covering his face and neck.

 

_It was pain that woke him the second time.  He was in Hell – his face and arms burning up.  Memories assailed him, him running into the house and trying to get up the stairs; flames licking at his arms and face; the air filled with the smell of burning wood as the fire took a firmer hold.  He opened heavy eyelids and stared at the two figures standing next to the bed.  His eyes filled with tears and he turned his face away muttering, ‘No, no, go away.  I tried to save you – I tried-”_

“Tom, Jane, what are you doing here?” Beth had come back into the sick room followed by Cynthia.

Jane looked up, “We came to bring Uncle Jim some flowers,” she held up the bunch of bedraggled blooms, “but he got really upset.”

Cynthia put her hands on the children’s shoulders, “Come with me to the kitchen, you can have a glass of milk and a cookie each.  Come along.”

Beth stepped  around the bed and laid a hand on West’s dark hair, “Jim, it’ll be all right.  I promise.”

He shook his head and as he opened his eyes she saw the shine of tears and stroked her fingers through his dark hair, “Are you in pain?”

He nodded slowly, “Beth,” he whispered,  “I tried to save them – I really did.”

“Jim, Jim, it’s all right.  Hush now.”

“I – I keep seeing them, in my dreams – all the time.” The tears ran down his cheeks and Beth gently stroked his hair again, “Jim, Jim, please.  Everything will be all right.”

He shook his head again and whispered, “Beth, please, make the dreams stop.”

She stared into his sea-green eyes and ran her fingers through his dark hair, “I can give you something to help you sleep – to take away the pain.”

“Yes,” he whispered, “something to make me sleep.  Stop the nightmares – forever.”

She sighed under her breath and then nodded, turning away she measured out a dose of laudanum, just enough to send him back into a deep sleep. 

Sliding a hand beneath his neck she held the cup to his lips, and watched his throat work as drop by painstaking drop was eased down his throat.  She stroked his hair again and smiled at him as his eyes started to droop, “I tried you know,” he whispered, “I tried so hard to save them.”

“Oh Jim,” Beth said softly, “go to sleep.”

“I want to stop seeing them,” he muttered. “I dream about them all the time-”

She laid the back of her first and second fingers against his eyebrow watching as the opiate took effect.  _I hope he’ll forgive me when he wakes up_.  She stood up and a wry smile twisted her mouth.  _Sleep well, my friend._

It remained the longest night of her life, she and Cynthia took turns watching the unconscious man, Beth had a cot put up in the same room and lay down for a couple of hours while Cynthia kept watch over the drugged agent.  She managed to doze although it felt as though she hadn’t slept at all.

She was washing her hands at the sink when there was a soft tapping on the door, “Come in,” she called quietly.

The door opened and as she turned she saw Artemus enter, followed by American Knife and Angharad O’Neill.  _Harry_ , she thought numbly, almost weeping with relief.

American Knife bent over the man, his handsome face taut with anxiety.  “How has he been Miss Elizabeth?”

“He’s in a lot of pain from his burns,” Beth replied, “I’ve used honey to treat them and then bandaged them.”

“I brought some of my herbs,” American Knife replied, his eyes fixed on West’s face, “they will help him rest and sleep.”

“He believes that the children are dead – that it was his failure that killed them.” Beth explained.

“Then we must rectify that as soon as possible,” American Knife said sternly.

“Yes,” Beth agreed. 


	2. Enter The Shaman...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> American Knife and Dr O'Neill arrive from Manafee to help Dr MacKenzie with her treatment of James West.

** Chapter 2 **

 

When Jim awoke the next time it was to see American Knife and Artemus bending over him.  He frowned, puzzled by the concern on their faces, “Artie,” he murmured in relief, “what are _you_ doing here?”

“You were hurt, Jim,” Artie said gently, one hand resting on his friend’s shoulder.

“Hurt?” West echoed, attempting to lift his arms, and seemed surprised when both American Knife and Artie forced him back down onto the bed. 

“Lie still, James,” Artie said softly.  “Are you hungry,  in pain?”

“Tired,” Jim managed a sleepy smile, “glad you’re here, Artie.  So glad-” His eyelids flickered, drooped and then he was asleep again.

“We will start reducing the laudanum when he wakes again,” American Knife said as he straightened up, “and try to ease the withdrawal symptoms.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed.

“Can you try to get fluid down him too,” American Knife ordered, “as much as possible.”

“Would you be prepared to catheterize him?” Beth asked, “Harry and I will give you and Artemus some privacy.”

“Netis,” Harry said quietly as they left the room.

“Netis?” Beth queried.

“My Native American name.”  Angharad explained, “and it will be the name I take when I marry American Knife.”

“How does your family feel about that?”

“My mother isn’t too pleased,” Harry replied, “but my grandmother told me to go for it.  She said that you should grab happiness with both hands.”

“Sounds like a lady with her head screwed on,” Beth replied.  “When?”

“Not for at least a year,” Harry replied, “will you come to the ceremony?”

“Try to keep me away,” Beth replied, hugging her friend. 

Artemus emerged from the sickroom, and Beth thought she saw tears in his eyes, “Oh, Artie,” she said putting her arms around him. 

“Gods, Beth,” he murmured, “what am I going to do?”

She hugged the distressed agent, and then said, “He’ll get through this,” she promised.

Artemus nodded and swallowed, “Give me something to do?” he pleaded.

Beth looked thoughtful, “I’d like to transport him to the Capital,” she said, “can you arrange an extra carriage for The Wanderer if I write down the specifications?”

“Done,” Artie replied quickly, and seeing the pain in his eyes, Beth didn’t respond, merely nodded.  Taking out a small notebook, she wrote quickly for a few moments and then neatly tearing out the page handed it to Gordon.

Beth turned to the woman at her side, “Will you and American Knife travel with us?  I could certainly use the assistance.”

Artemus looked from one to the other and Beth smiled at him, “Go,” she ordered, “we’ll hold the fort until you get back.”

He swallowed, suddenly grateful and then they were alone.

Beth sighed and then turned to her friend, “I am so glad that you’re here, I couldn’t have done this by myself.”

Netis laid a cool hand on Beth’s arm, “Yes you could if you’d had to.”

“I’m still glad you’re here,” Beth smiled.

American Knfie emerged from the sick room and both women turned to face him.

“He is still unconscious,” the Cheyenne said slowly, “but as I said before, it is his state of mind with which I am most concerned.”

“As am I.  What do we do now?”`

“If you will sit with him, Netis,” American Knife said gently, “while I take Dr MacKenzie for a hot meal.  If he awakes and is in pain, give him some of my herbal medicine.  You know which one it is.”

“I do,” Netis replied. 

American Knife gently took Beth’s arm, “Come,” he said firmly, “you look tired.”

Beth nodded and then the tall, Native American shaman was escorting her out of the room and into the street.

“You are worried about him,” American Knife said when they were seated in the restaurant.

“Yes,” Beth confessed, “although the injuries will heal.”

“It’s everything else,” American Knife responded, and then a smile curved the strong lips, “ah, our supper has arrived.”

It was a rich, fragrant beef stew and to Beth, every mouthful tasted like sawdust.

American Knife watched her as she ate, a  sympathetic expression on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual I don't own The Wild Wild West or any of its characters - I do however own Netis, Dr Elizabeth MacKenzie and the other characters of the town of Golden.


	3. The Children Are Safe....

** Chapter 3 **

 

Jim surfaced groggily, someone was bending over him and it was with relief he recognised the face, “Harry,” he murmured hazily, “are you real?”

“I am indeed, Jim,” she replied gently.

“I had some strange dreams,” he muttered, “was American Knife here?”

“He’s taken Beth for some supper,” Dr O’Neill replied gently, “let’s see if we can get some food down you.”

Jim grimaced but allowed her to lift his shoulders and hold a mug to his lips, he drank most of the beef tea and then allowed her to ease him back onto the pillows, “I’m just going to give you another dose of medicine,” she explained, bringing another cup to the bedside, “it’ll help with the pain of those burns.”

He swallowed hard, his dreams had been terrifying, his whole body had been afire and once or twice he’d even seen visions of the two children he’d failed to save, gritting his teeth he nodded and she was holding a cup of some dark liquid to his lips, “Drink slowly,” she advised.

Eventually he lay back against the pillows and she laid her hand on the crown of his head, “Rest,” she said softly.

 _More  bad dreams,_ Jim thought hazily as the drug took effect, he tried to fight the soporific but it was too strong and he sank into unconsciousness still fighting the sedative.

Netis stroked a hand through Jim’s dark hair and sighed softly, even sedated his eyes rolled beneath his closed lids and his head moved uneasily on the pillow. 

She was sitting beside the bed when American Knife and Beth returned, “How is he?” Beth asked.

“He woke up and had a drink, I even managed to get some beef tea down him,” Netis explained, “I’ve started him on our herbal mixtures and halved the laudanum, but he doesn’t seem to be resting very well.”

American Knife bent over his friend, the firm mouth tense, belying his anxiety.  He moved so that he was standing next to the bed and then laid a gentle hand on Jim’s bare shoulder.  “Easy, my friend,” he murmured, “there is nothing to fear.  You are safe and among friends.”

Beth was certain that he administered no drugs yet, Jim’s eyes ceased to move beneath their closed lids and he settled back onto the bed.  American Knife straightened up and said, “Sometimes despite the body being drugged, the spirit continues to fight.  If the spirit can be reassured that all is well, then the body can rest.”

“That’s some trick,” Beth muttered, staring at West’s supine body.

“It is no trick,” Netis replied softly, regarding American Knife thoughtfully.

“What now?” Beth asked.

“I am going to get something to eat,” Netis said quietly.

“Do you think Mrs Whelan will allow me access to her kitchen?” American Knife asked, “I need to mix up some more of my medicines before we travel.”

“I think she might,” Beth replied, “if you ask her nicely.”

A slight nod and a taut smile and he was gone.  Beth eased herself into the chair next to the bed and regarded the sleeping man.  He did seem to be resting better and she wondered again what exactly American Knife had done.  She was applying some more Vaseline to his face and neck when the door opened and Artemus strode in.

“How’s he doing?” he demanded.

“Gently, gently,” Beth cautioned, “he’s resting comfortably at the moment – I don’t want him disturbed.”

Artemus sat down in the chair Beth had just vacated and ran a hand across his face, “Gods, Beth, those burns-” he swallowed hard.

She said quickly, “the bathroom’s at the end of the hall if you want to be sick.”

He shook his head, “No, no I’ll be all right.  How’s he doing really, Beth?”

“Better than he was,” she replied, “we’ll change those bandages tomorrow and leave them for another two days.  How did your planning go?”

“I’ve managed to get another carriage,” Artemus replied, “and the equipment you requested,” Beth opened her mouth but Artemus lifted a hand to forestall her, “and to your specifications.”

Beth smiled and putting her arms around Artemus, kissed his cheek.

“When do we move him?” He asked quietly.

“The day after tomorrow,” Beth replied, “After I’ve changed his bandages I want to monitor him for a while. He needs to be stable before we start jolting him around.” 

“Can I sit with him for a bit?” Gordon asked.

“Certainly, Artemus,” Beth replied, “if he wakes up, try and get some liquid down him.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Artie grinned and then she had slipped out the door, to be met by Cynthia Whelan.

“Glad I caught you, Doctor MacKenzie,” Cynthia said, wiping her hands on her apron.  “Mr and Mrs Wolfe would like to see you.”

“Who?” Beth asked.

“Tom and Jane’s parents,” Cynthia clarified.  “They’d like to thank you for saving their children.”

To her surprise Beth blushed crimson and Mrs Whelan laughed gently, “They’re waiting in my drawing room as your Native American friend has taken over my kitchen.”

The couple were standing awkwardly when Beth entered the room, the man swallowed and held out his hand, “I-we came to thank you.  I’m John Wolfe, this is my wife, Rosamund.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” Beth replied, shaking his hand, “but it’s not necessary.”

“The children are asking about Mr West,” the woman said slowly, “how is he?”

Beth sighed, “I won’t lie, the burns are quite serious, but I think with a little gentle care, he will be all right.”

“There’s a rumour that you want to take him back to Washington,” Mr Wolfe said slowly.

“I feel that he would receive the best treatment in the capital,” Beth explained.

“I understand,” Rosamund replied, “when will you be leaving?”

“Possibly tomorrow afternoon,” Beth smiled, “I’ll change his bandages tomorrow if he’s resting comfortably then I’ll consider it.”

“The children still want to see him,” Rosamund replied, “they don’t understand why he was crying when he saw them.”

Beth sighed, “All right, I’ll come and speak to them.”

Tom and Jane were sitting at the kitchen table when she entered the house, Beth smiled at them both and asked gently, “May I sit down?”

The boy looked up and nodded, Beth sat down, “I understand that you’re a bit upset about Mr West?”

“Why was he crying?” Jane asked suddenly, “I’ve never seen a man cry before.”

Swallowing hard, Beth thought furiously, and then she said, “We gave him something because he was badly burned, remember?”  When the children nodded, she smiled and said, “the medicine we gave him sometimes makes people have horrible dreams.”

“So he was dreaming?” Tom asked suspiciously. “He didn’t sound like he was dreaming!”

Beth looked down and sighed, “Tom, when someone’s ill, they sometimes have such vivid dreams that when they wake up they sometimes think that what they dreamed was real.”

The boy’s lips thinned in a stubborn line and Beth smiled, “You don’t believe me, huh?”

Tom shook his head and Beth had to bite back a smile, “Well in that case, Master Wolfe, there’s not much I can say to convince you otherwise is there?”


	4. Colonel Fairchild Better Appreciate This....

** Chapter 4 **

 

For about the thirtieth time that day, Eleanor wondered why she’d agreed to work for Richmond’s Girls, she’d managed to pad the bullet wound but it hurt like fury.  Sighing she tipped her hat back and squinted at the horizon, _Only another five miles to go_ , she thought wryly, _Colonel Fairchild better appreciate this._ Checking again for the documents safely stored beneath her jacket, she nudged her horse onward and cursed herself for the thirty-first time.

She could have wept when the small town of Boulder came into view; she did a quick spot check of her shoulder and was grateful that her dressing seemed to be holding.  The last thing she wanted to do was to collapse like a helpless female.

It was with relief that she recognised Marcia waiting outside the Sheriff’s office, how she managed to dismount she never remembered, as her feet touched the earth, the world spun and she had to hold onto the saddle and wait for it to steady itself.  Somehow she managed to straighten up and paste a bright smile on her face, “Have you got the items?” a man was standing behind Marcia.

“Sheriff Tucker,” Marcia remarked dryly.  “The Marshal’s been wearing a hole in the floor for the past two hours.”

Grimacing, Eleanor reached inside her jacket and brought out the oilskin wrapped packet, “Everything should be there,” she replied, making a point of handing it to Marcia.  Her friend grinned and then turning, handed it not to Sheriff Tucker, but to the Marshal who had just emerged from the office, “Yours I believe, sir.”

The Marshal opened the packet and flipped through the contents, and then he smiled and tipped his hat to both women, “My thanks, Miss Dennison, you and your colleague have discharged your duty perfectly.”

Marcia smiled wryly, “Oh, I would hope that we did better than that, Marshal.”

He nodded and then smiling leant forward and said, “Touché, Miss Dennison.  And from one law enforcer to another, I think you’d better get your colleague home, she looks in need of attention.”

Marcia nodded and then she firmly, but gently took Eleanor’s arm, “Come along, Ellie.  Let’s get back, a nice long bath and time to recuperate.”

“And a doctor,” Eleanor admitted ruefully.  “I was careless, Marcia, got a slug in my shoulder for my pains.”

“Jesus, Ellie, why didn’t you say anything?” Marcia looked aghast.

“Because to do so in front of those two, especially that Sheriff would have made me look helpless and pathetic and undermine everything Richmond’s Girls has fought for.” Eleanor said firmly.

Marcia nodded and said, “I’ve brought the hansom two-wheeler, you can ride next to me.”

Eleanor nodded, her hand unconsciously straying to her shoulder, Marcia noticed it and smiled a taut grin, “You’ll be all right, Ellie.”

Eleanor managed a wry grin in return, “So sure about that, Marcia? I wish I was.”

Marcia nodded, the worry in her blue eyes showing the fear that she felt swirling in her gut.  When the carriage reached the house Marcia had leased she helped Eleanor down onto the hard-packed earth and ushered her inside. Eleanor was confronted with a large, airy vestibule and a tall, black-skinned butler.

“Tavington,” Marcia spoke from behind them, “would you please escort Miss Talbot upstairs to the doctor’s rooms.  I’m afraid that she’s been injured.”

The man nodded as if this behaviour was perfectly normal, “If you will come this way, Miss Talbot,” his voice was deep and mellifluous and Eleanor felt her apprehension ease.  Flashing a quick smile to Marcia, she followed the man up the stairway.  He opened the door for her and then Eleanor was alone.

To her surprise she found herself facing a tall, blonde woman, green eyes smiled in a pointed face, “What happened?” she asked sympathetically.

“God myself shot,” Eleanor replied sheepishly.

“Comes with the territory I understand,” the woman replied, “I’m Dr Fielding, Emma to my friends.  Is the bullet still in there?”

“Lord knows,” Eleanor managed a tight smile up at her, “I had to get the information back to the Marshal so my first consideration was to stop the bleeding.”

“I see,” Emma replied, “first things first then, we’ll get your jacket and blouse off, although be warned, I may have to cut.”

“Cut away,” Eleanor replied, “I’ll add it to my expense account.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual I don't own any of the characters, I've just taken them out of the box to play with.


	5. The Children Are Safe

** Chapter 5 **

 

Jim surfaced hazily to see Artemus sitting next to him, he managed a half-smile at his friend.  “Hey, Jim,” his friend said gently, “how are you feeling, pal?”

“Woozy,” Jim replied.

“Want something to drink?” Artemus asked.

Jim nodded and Artie carefully lifted his friend so that he could hold the glass of water to his lips, Jim drank thirstily and then shook his head, “No more,” he whispered and as carefully as a newborn, Artemus laid him back down on the bed. 

Jim swallowed and looked across at his friend, “I failed everyone,” he said miserably, “I tried to save those children-”

“Jim, they’re safe,” Artie said kindly, his hand resting on his friend’s head.

Jim swallowed and Artemus noticed that his eyes were full of tears, “No, no,” he muttered, “I dream about them all the time – keep seeing their spirits – they’re haunting me, Artie, they’re blaming me for their deaths-”

“No Jim,” Artemus swallowed trying to keep his voice calm and level, “the children are alive.  I promise.”

Jim blinked furious tears away and Artemus swallowed hard, it was obvious that Jim didn’t believe him, and Artemus thought that his partner was still too ill to receive visitors.  Quickly he changed the subject and asked softly, “Are you hungry?”

“A bit,” Jim turned his head to look into Artie’s face, “my arms hurt.”

“I can give you something for them,” Artemus replied, “but it might make you a bit sleepy.”

“I want to sleep forever,” Jim muttered, he managed a hazy, tear-filled smile at his friend, “I-I asked Beth but I think she’s getting the doses wrong, I keep waking up-” Jim swallowed again and it took all of Artie’s self-control not to cry.

“Jim, don’t cry now,” Artie said gently, one hand stroking his friend’s dark hair, “Everything will be all right.”

The door opened gently and Jim turned his head to see Beth entering the room, “James,” she said softly.

“Beth,” Jim muttered, closing his eyes tightly against the agony in his arms.

“Do you want something for the pain?” she asked quietly.

“I-I want everything to go away,” he muttered, “I want to stop seeing those children, it’s all my fault-”

Beth smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “All right, Jim, I’ll get you something.”  She turned away and Artemus watched as she measured out a dose of sedative.  Gliding across to the bed, she allowed Artie to slip an arm beneath Jim’s shoulders as she held the cup to Jim’s lips, he drank quickly, too quickly perhaps and then she said, “Would like a drink of water, James?”

He swallowed again, the movement making him look absurdly young and then nodded, Beth held the cup to his lips and watched as his throat worked.  Artemus was still stroking his friend’s head and Beth saw his eyes fill with tears and his lips wobble as he fought to control his emotions.

“Jim,” Beth said quietly, pulling up another chair on the other side of the bed, and laying her own hand on her patient’s head, noticing how hers and Artie’s fingers intertwined, “the children aren’t dead. They’re alive.”

Jim’s eyes were closed and he shook his head from side to side, “Can’t be,” he muttered, “saw the flames – fought, fought my way to the room – couldn’t get in-”

“Jim, have either of us ever lied to you?” Artie asked gently, and although he still looked sick, his voice had steadied.

The man between them frowned and then slurred sleepily, “I know you’d never lie to me, Artie.”

“Then trust me now, Jim,” Artie said, almost lovingly, “the children are alive.  You need to sleep and get well, do you understand?”

There was no answer from the supine figure in the bed between them and suddenly Artie wrenched his hand away from Beth’s and standing up marched across to the window and swore.  “Damnit!  We were so close – I don’t even know if he heard me.”

“We shall just have to wait and see,” Beth replied, looking at the hard lines of his back.  “He’ll get through this, Artemus, he’s young and strong and has three of the best physicians in the country and someone who loves him fighting his corner, how can he lose?”

Artemus turned and for a moment Beth thought that she’d overstepped the mark because the colour had drained from his face, “Beth it’s not like that-” he began and was shocked when she stood up and walking across to him laid a slim hand on his arm, “it would not matter if it was.” She said firmly, “but I know that it isn’t – you two have something unique.”

Jim stirred uneasily on the bed, Beth bent over him, running her fingers through his dark hair, “Jim, Jim you’re all right.  Rest now.”

To her surprise, he settled back onto the bed, his breathing easing as he did so.  “You too have a gift,” a familiar voice said, and both looked up to see that American Knife had entered the room, “if you wish it at some later date, it would be my pleasure to teach you.”

“I’ll consider it,” Beth replied, “we’re having a hard time convincing him about the children.”

“Yes,” American Knife looked thoughtful, he looked down at Jim’s sleeping face, “but we will keep trying.”  He looked up at Artemus, “and how are you, my friend?”

“I’ll live,” Artemus looked down at his friend, he ran a hand over his face and both Beth and American Knife regarded him sympathetically, “I think I ought to take you for something to eat,” Beth said kindly, taking Artie’s arm, “if American Knife will sit with Mr West.”

“Of course, Dr MacKenzie,” American Knife replied. At that moment, Netis entered the room, she smiled at her friends, “How is he?” she asked

“He woke up for a bit,” Beth explained, “he’s still in considerable distress, but we’re working on it.  I’m about to take Mr Gordon for some supper.”

“I don’t think I can eat,” Artemus mumbled as Beth led him from the room.

“You must have something,” Beth replied.

He managed a wry grin at her, “Playing mother again?”

“No, not mother,” she replied, “when did you last eat, Artemus?”

He sighed and said, “I’ve eaten here and there.”

“And how much has stayed down?” She asked tenderly.

He sighed, “Nothing much really, I’ve been subsisting on coffee.”

Beth sat him down at the table and ordered food for them, he managed a half-hearted smile at her when their waitress had gone, “I don’t know how much I can eat.”

“Try,” Beth replied, “and then you need to rest.”

Artemus started to shake his head but Beth’s firm gaze held his, “Jim needs you well and strong, not half-dead on your feet.”

Reluctantly, Artie nodded, just as their food arrived, “You can rest on the cot I had put in Jim’s room – I know you’d want to be near him.”

“Thanks, Beth,” Artie bent his head to his meal, glad that she couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. She watched as he forced himself to eat, knowing that each mouthful was an effort.  He looked up at her after forcing down four or five mouthfuls, Beth was regarding him quietly, “I know,” she said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimer I don't own any of the characters except those of Richmond's Girls - I've just taken them out of the box to play with for a while.


	6. No nightmares....

** Chapter 6 **

 

American Knife watched as his friend’s eyelids flickered and half-opened, gently American Knife lifted Jim’s head and held the water to his lips, allowing him to drink.  When he’d finished, American Knife lowered his friend’s head back onto the pillow and smiled as Jim blinked and looked up at the two figures sitting next to his bed, “Jim,” the Cheyenne said softly, “how do you feel?”

“No nightmares,” West closed his eyes in relief, then they snapped open again, “Artie? Is he safe?  I-I thought-” his voice broke and American Knife laid a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Be still, Jim. Artemus is fine, Dr MacKenzie took him across to the restaurant for something to eat.  You can talk to him for a bit when he gets back.”

Jim subsided back onto the bed and then managed a wry smile, lifting his arms he frowned in puzzlement at the bandages, “What happened to me?”

American Knife sat down beside the bed and replied, “As I understand it, James, you were badly burned trying to save some children.”

Jim swallowed and nodded, “I remember,” he whispered brokenly, “I failed.”

Netis gently laid her hand on his shoulder, “No, Jim,” she said firmly, “I promise you, the children are alive.”

He blinked owlishly at her and a sad smile curved the strong lips, “Harry,” he murmured.

She stroked her fingers through his hair, much the same way Beth had done, “Jim none of us would ever lie to you.  I promise you, the children are safe.”

Jim shook his head, feeling the ice curling in his gut, despite her assurances he couldn’t believe her, at that moment the door opened and two familiar figures entered the room, Netis vacated her seat and Artemus moved to sit beside his friend, “Artie,” Jim croaked, he opened his mouth again to try and find the words but nothing would come, swallowing he tried again, “I failed-”

American Knife rose to his feet and smiled at Beth, “Perhaps you can convince him,” he said firmly. “Come, Dear Heart,” this to Netis, “your help would be most appreciated.”

Beth sat down in the seat that American Knife had just vacated and laid her hand on Jim’s shoulder, “Jim,” she said softly, “you didn’t fail.  The children are alive.”

He rolled his head to stare at her and she could see hope warring with disbelief in his eyes, “You swear?”

“Have any of us ever lied to you?” She replied firmly.

He swallowed again and shook his head, “Where are they?” he whispered.

“With their parents,” Beth replied, “I promise you that they’re perfectly safe, in fact they were asking about you.”

“I’d like to see them,” he said quietly.

Beth looked across at Artemus, it was on the tip of her tongue to refuse but then she looked down and saw the look of hopelessness in Jim’s eyes, “All right, Jim,” she said softly, “I’ll arrange it.”

He nodded, and the door opened again, Artie looked up and a wry grin twisted his lips, “This is becoming like Grand Central Station.” He remarked.

American Knife smiled and ushered the woman in front of him, “I thought that we should talk,” he explained, “a conference of war if you will.”

“Help me sit up,” Jim muttered.  This proved a more complex manoeuvre than might have been supposed, eventually he managed to lift himself partway from the pillows and Artemus and American Knife slid their arms behind his back to ease him to a sitting position at which point Beth stuffed another three pillows behind him.  When he was resting comfortably he looked at all three of them, “How bad?” he asked, looking at Beth.

“Second degree,” she replied, “bad enough that we’ve had to keep you sedated until now.”

“What did you use?” he asked curiously, looking down at his bandaged arms.

“Honey,” Beth responded, “I’m going to change them tomorrow, and I suspect that we’ll have to sedate you to do so.”

Jim’s lips tightened and he swallowed, “The stuff you gave me at first, I had horrible dreams-”

Beth smiled, “I have a theory, although it’s not well-received, I think that Laudanum has some side effects.”

“The dreams?” and when she nodded, Jim closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath, “God, I thought – I thought I was going mad.”

Beth laid a hand on his shoulder, “No, just rotten nightmares.”

“I can help with that,” American Knife said, “when you need to change Mr West’s dressings I can assist you.”

“And me,” Netis interjected, “you’ll need another pair of hands.”

“And if you think I’m leaving you James-my-boy, you are sadly mistaken,” Artemus said, squeezing his friend’s other shoulder and James West could only stare speechless.

“I shall go and arrange for the children to come visit,” Beth said, finally finding her voice, “I think it would be easier on them if we could get Mr West into a pyjama jacket.”

“Easier on me too,” Jim replied.

Netis touched American Knife’s hand, “If Mr Gordon is agreeable I shall go and check the carriage, I may need to requisition further supplies.”

“Go,” Artemus said and both Beth and Netis saw the warm look of approval in his eyes.  Then both men were alone.

 


	7. Hope for the best...

** Chapter 7 **

 

Eleanor looked up at the doctor, she’d managed to remove her jacket without too much difficulty, but one look at her bloodstained blouse and Emma lips had thinned, “I think it best if I give you something while I get this off.”

“Oh joy,” Ellie muttered, she swallowed hard and managed a weak smile when the doctor turned around with a small glass, it was half-filled with a dark liquid, “I dislike giving anyone laudanum,” she explained, “but if I need to dig I’d like to keep you pain free and quiet.”

Eleanor nodded and scowled, “Where do you want me?”

“On this table here,” Emma said softly and grimacing, Eleanor got up and holding the wrist of her injured arm, walked across to hospital gurney and smiled when she saw the sheet covering it, “Ex Civil War,” Emma explained, “Once I’m finished with you, I’ll replace the sheet.”

Eleanor scowled again, and then taking a deep breath, drank the entire contents of the glass. 

“Now lie down,”  Dr Fielding commanded, “I need to go and make sure my instruments are sterile – you’ll probably be asleep when I get back.”

Eleanor sighed and nodded, “I really, _really_ , don’t like this,” she muttered.

“I gathered,” Dr Fielding replied, she laid her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, “it’ll be all right,” she promised.

“I hope so,” Eleanor muttered.   She lay down on her right side, hoping that when the drug started to work she wouldn’t fight it, to her relief, it was just a general feeling of sleepiness and in the end she just remembered closing her eyes and sliding into darkness.

Waking was hard, she tried to shift position and groaned as a wave of pain lanced through her shoulder, almost instantly a cool hand was on her arm, she cracked open an eyelid to stare into the face of her superior, Hannah Richmond.

“Take it easy, sweetie,” her superior urged, gently stroking her forehead.  “Dr Fielding wants you to rest. She’ll come and talk to you later.”

“It didn’t hurt half so much before,” Eleanor muttered, “help me sit up.”

Hannah looked doubtful, “Are you sure, Ellie?”

“I’m sure,” Eleanor rasped.

Slowly and painfully, Hannah helped her colleague to a sitting position and regarded her friend thoughtfully, “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and you should be resting.”

“I don’t rest well lying down,” Eleanor grated, “help me to a chair and I promise to keep still.”

Hannah sighed and then nodded, “Give me your arm.”

Eleanor spent the remainder of the day sitting upright in the chair, alternately looking out of the window and sleeping.  Dr Fielding was not pleased, her lips thinning in a disapproving frown when she examined her patient.

“I had to dig for the bullet,” she explained, sitting on the stool opposite Eleanor.  “I am concerned about nerve damage.  How do your fingers feel?  Can you wiggle them for me?”

Slowly, experimentally, Eleanor wiggled her fingers; Dr Fielding nodded approvingly, “Good.  Now, let me take a look at that hand.”

Carefully, Emma undid the sling and gently took Eleanor’s hand and squeezed her fingers,  “Tell me what you feel?”

“Odd,” Eleanor pursed her lips in a frown, “like pins and needles.”

If possible Dr Fielding’s lips thinned even more, “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Nerve damage?” Eleanor asked, her emerald green eyes scanning Emma’s face.

“ _Possible_ nerve damage,” Emma clarified, “it may just be inflammation after I had to probe for the bullet in your shoulder.”

“But then again it may be permanent,” Eleanor replied.

Dr Fielding nodded, “Yes.”

Eleanor sighed and looking away nodded, “If it’s permanent, it’s permanent.  I’ll learn to live with it.”

Emma’s eyes dropped and she looked uncomfortable, “Sorry.” She muttered.

“Eleanor smiled back showing sharp white teeth, “I’d sooner you were honest with me, Dr Fielding.  This is not your fault – it’s a hazard of this job.”

“I just want to be honest with you,” Emma replied.

“I know that,” Eleanor yawned suddenly, “and I’d much rather you were truthful than sop me with false promises.  You know what they say, ‘Hope for the best; but prepare for the worst.’  A good philosophy for life I find.”

“You look washed out,” Dr Fielding replied sympathetically, “I’ll strap your arm up again and I want you to get some rest.”


	8. The Children's Visit

** Chapter 8 **

 

The children had been nervous but excited, “Should I take him flowers again?” the little girl had asked, her lower lip trembling.

“No, Jane,” Beth replied, her hand warm on the child’s shoulder, “not this time.  I just need you both to be very brave.”

“Why?”

“Remember when I told you that Mr West had been injured and he was having horrible dreams?”  When both children nodded she smiled, “well he might still be a bit tearful when you see him again – so you mustn’t get upset.”

“I can be brave,” Tom replied, his lower lip jutting out pugnaciously.

“I know you can,” Beth replied, “I know you both are.  Now there’s just one other thing, you mustn’t touch his hands.  His arms and hands have been burned, remember the bandages?” and when both children nodded she smiled.  “Good.  Come with me.”

Their behaviour had been exemplary, they’d been frightened, Beth could tell from the paleness of their faces but both had stood next to the bed watching the man resting against the pillows, their eyes huge.

“Tom! Jane!” West said, such relief in his voice that it made Beth’s nose hurt, “are you both safe?”

Both children nodded quickly, the girl gripping her brother’s hand. 

“Thank God,” Jim muttered, closing his eyes, and when he opened them again they were bright with unshed tears.  To Beth’s surprise, the little girl walked forward and laid a small hand on his upper arm, “Uncle Jim, please don’t cry,” she said, “you were crying last time I came to see you.”

Jim managed a faint smile in return, he looked down at her, “I was?”

She nodded quickly, and Beth saw him swallow against the tightness in his throat, finally he managed to reply, “I-er-I was having a nightmare.”

“That’s what Miss Elizabeth said,” Jane replied, her lips puckered as she looked at him, “but you’re all right now?”

Jim managed to dredge a smile from somewhere, “Yes, I’m all right now.”

Beth laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder and holding out her hand, said, “Come along, Miss Wolfe, Mr West needs his rest.”

The little girl nodded, “Can we come and see Uncle Jim again?” she asked.

“We’ll see,” Beth replied. She ushered both children out of the room and releasing a sigh of relief, he hadn’t been aware he was holding, Jim sank back onto the pillows.

“I think it’s time for another dose of medicine,” Netis said gently.  Jim opened his eyes and was about to shake his head and then he sighed again, “that’s not going to work is it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Netis replied, “I can see that you’re in pain.”

Reluctantly he closed his eyes again.  When he opened them, Netis was standing next to the bed, a glass in her hand.  He grimaced when she held the concoction to his lips, but drank.  “Do you want me to help you to lie down or are you comfortable like that?” she asked softly.

“I’d rather stay like this,” he replied, and as his eyes closed a slight smile curved the handsome lips.  “Thanks, Harry.”

“Rest,” she urged, and suddenly weary beyond belief, Jim closed his eyes and dropped into blackness.

He woke two or three times during the night, it wasn’t exactly pain that awoke him, just his inability to get comfortable.   He remembered opening his eyes and seeing American Knife sitting beside the bed, the shaman looked up as he stirred and smiled.  The Cheyenne asked gently if Jim was in pain and the agent had nodded briefly, the shaman had poured a small amount of some herbal concoction into a glass and then held it to the agent’s lips.  Jim drank reluctantly, and just before he relaxed back into slumber he saw Artemus asleep on another cot in the corner of the room.  He sighed softly and smiled at the sleeping figure, and then he felt American Knife’s hand warm on his shoulder, “Rest,” the shaman said softly.

Jim nodded and closing his eyes sank gratefully back into slumber.  To his surprise he slept dreamlessly for the remainder of the night, waking only as Beth gently touched his shoulder again to awaken him.   Blinking up at her he slurred, “What time is it?”

“About ten,” she replied, “would you like some breakfast?”

Jim shifted position, about to push himself upright when he suddenly remembered, sheepishly he settled back onto the pillows, “Forgot about my hands,” he smiled.

“I gathered,” Beth replied, “so, what would you like?”

“You or Angharad will have to feed me won’t you?” Jim asked miserably.

Beth set the book she was holding, down and came to sit on the bed, she regarded Jim thoughtfully, “Would you prefer Artemus to do it?”

His face brightened and he nodded, Beth smiled and said, “I can make you some scrambled eggs, but I doubt that my cooking will be as good as Mr Gordon’s.”

A wry smile curved the handsome mouth and for a moment he looked almost like himself, “Very few cooks are as good as Mr Gordon.  Where is my partner by the way?”

Beth looked across at the empty cot, “He, Netis and American Knife went across to the restaurant for breakfast.  American Knife felt it best to let you sleep.”

“You have to change my dressings today,” Jim’s mouth tightened and Beth resisted the urge to take him in her arms and kiss the pain away.

“It will be all right,” she assured him, “If American Knife has anything to do with it I don’t think you’ll remember very much.”

Jim managed a half-smile, just as the door opened and a familiar figure stepped inside, his face lit up when he saw his friend, “Artie!” he said in relief.

“James-my-boy,” Artemus smiled broadly, “you look almost human.  Have you had breakfast?”

“I thought that you might like to feed him,” Beth replied, turning to smile at the man.

“Be delighted,” Artemus replied, “would scrambled eggs suit?”

“You read my mind,” Beth smiled and Artie laid a hand on her shoulder,  his dark eyes warm as he gazed at the woman.

“That’d be great, Artie,” Jim replied, finally smiling properly.

“Think Mrs Whelan would let me cook in her kitchen?” Artemus enquired, his dark eyes sparkling.

“I think she might,” Beth replied, her hazel eyes holding his.  Artemus nodded and then bent to press a kiss to her hairline before slipping out of the room.

“Beth,” Jim began slowly, he swallowed and tried again, “what’s this tube-”

“American Knife catheterized you,” Beth responded, “and for the moment I’d rather not remove it.  Look, you can’t take care of yourself at the moment, even if you wanted to.  I know it’s humiliating and you hate every moment of this-”

“More than you know,” Jim replied, his handsome mouth tightening.  He swallowed again and said, “I’ve heard rumours that you want to transport me to a hospital in Washington D.C.”

“Not a hospital,” Beth clarified, “it would be a house.  Can you think of any reason why not?”

“Apart from the fact that I don’t want to go,” Jim scowled, “I hate the thought of being stuck somewhere at the mercy of people I barely know-”

“Netis and I would be there,” Beth protested, “and American Knife too.  I am sure that Mr Gordon would stop by to visit.”

“I just don’t like it,” Jim complained, shifting positing uncomfortably.

Beth sighed, “All right, Jim.  But we don’t think you should stay here either.  You’re both too vulnerable – if anyone found out where you and Mr Gordon were they could take steps to kill or injure one or both of you – and let’s face it, you can’t even hold a gun at the moment.”

He nodded ruefully, “I see your point.  But do you see mine?”

“Yes, I do,” Beth smiled, “you feel that if you were stuck in the capital, your injury would become common knowledge and that you’d be a target for sympathy – and you’re such a private, self-contained person that it would drive you crazy.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighed, “I hate being fussed over, I just want to be left alone to sleep and heal.”

Beth managed a terse smile, “Wherever we take you Jim, you’ll be fussed over.  And because of the seriousness of your injuries, it can’t be the back of beyond.”

At that moment the door opened and Artemus backed into the room, he was carrying a tray and Beth saw the glistening, golden scrambled egg sitting on the plate.  He smiled and then set the tray on Jim’s knees.

“I’ll leave you in peace,” Beth said, “I need a cup of coffee.”

 


	9. Briefly back to Eleanor...

** Chapter 9 **

 

Eleanor hissed in frustration as her shoulder wound _twanged_ again.  Shifting position she bit her lip.  Finally, she managed to get mostly comfortable and smiled at Hannah, “You should be resting.” Her superior frowned.

“I am,” Eleanor protested.

“Dr Fielding’s not pleased that you won’t take the laudanum.”

“Gives me rotten dreams,” Eleanor replied, “my shoulder will heal.”

“You’re hopeless” Hannah rolled her eyes, “will you at least take the willow bark?”

“Yes, I’ll take the willow bark,” Eleanor scowled and Hannah smiled, “good girl.  I’ll get you something to eat.”

When she returned Hannah was carrying a bowl of stew, Ellie glared at it and then looked up at her friend, “I hate stew.”

“It’ll be easier to eat with one hand,” Hannah replied, “and then me or Marcia will help you back into bed. Understood?”

Hannah regarded her quietly when she’d eaten and then said, “So, will you try and rest now?”

Eleanor grimaced and then nodded, “I’ll heal, Hannah, it’s just going to take a while.”

“I think I’m going to send you back to _La Casa Rosada_ ,” Hannah replied, when Eleanor began to shake her head, Hannah smiled, “No, you need rest and time to heal.  Neither of which you’re going to get here.  You’ll have peace and quiet at the Pink House.”

Ellie sighed and then nodded, “All right, I agree, under protest.”

“Good,” her superior smiled, “because you’re going anyway.”

Eleanor grimaced, “I wasn’t going to be able to talk you out of this one, was I?”

“No, not this time,” Hannah replied.  “You won’t be fit to travel for a least a week – then you are most definitely going to _La Casa_.”

 


	10. Treating the burns...

** Chapter 10 **

 

Jim ate his breakfast slowly, watching Artie’s face as he did so.  Finally he asked, “Are you all right?”

Artemus managed a slight grin, “I’ve been better.  Jesus, Jim, you scared me this time.”

“I think I scared myself,” Jim replied, taking another mouthful, as he chewed Artie continued, “if it hadn’t been for Beth turning up I don’t know what I’d have done.  She was amazing.”

“Not really,” Beth’s cool voice interrupted them both, “I couldn’t have done it without American Knife – he was the one who suggested weaning you off the laudanum – it is his medicine you should thank.”

“You underestimate your ability,” Artemus replied.

“Flatterer,” Beth replied, a smile lighting the bright blue eyes.

“Most definitely,” Artie replied, the smile reciprocated in his. “But never without cause.”

Beth smiled, “You expressed a reluctance to be transported to the Capital,” she said slowly.

Jim swallowed again and nodded, “I don’t want to go there, Elizabeth, I can’t bear the thought-” he broke off and she thought she saw the shine of tears in his eyes. “We can’t leave you here,” she explained, “your injuries make you vulnerable – and God knows, Jim, you’ve made your fair share of enemies, if any of them discover your whereabouts-”

He grimaced, “I know, but the Capital-” he broke off

Beth smiled tautly, “finish your breakfast; I need to go and talk with American Knife about redressing those arms.”

He smiled wanly and then he and Artemus were alone again, Artie fed him the last mouthful of scrambled egg and then said softly, “She has a point, Jim.”

West nodded as Artie held the cup for him to drink, he swallowed and said, “I know, Artie, but the thought of being marooned in Washington D.C.-”

Artemus sighed and said, “I know, Jim, I know, but at present I can’t think of another solution.”

Meanwhile, Beth was pulling on her gloves when she heard a familiar voice say, “Dr MacKenzie may I speak with you?”

She turned to see the imposing figure of American Knife standing in the doorway to the kitchen, “Of course, American Knife,” she replied.

“I do not think it would be in Mr West’s best interests to go to the capital,” American Knife began, as Beth opened her mouth he held up a hand to forestall her, “I know that you feel that he would receive the best medical care in that place, but it would do his mental state no good.  He is a proud man, Miss Elizabeth, it would hurt him to take him there – and I do not believe that I can come with you.”

Beth frowned, “Why not?”

“Because I am Cheyenne and my home is the prairie, I would feel like a hunted animal in your city.”

Beth nodded, “I know, but where else can I take him, with those injuries he’ll need specialist care for a while.”

American Knife looked thoughtful, “What about your ‘proving ground’?” he asked.

Beth flushed, “How do you know about that?”

“Netis and I have few secrets, so I know about _La Cass Rosada_ ,” American Knife smiled, “you have a doctor on Staff there and Mr West would be able to recover in peace and quiet.”

“It would suit his temperament better,” Beth replied, “all right, _La Casa_ it is.”

“We should go and tell him,” American Knife said quietly, “it would ease his mind.”

“Yes,” Beth nodded, “what about changing those dressings?”

“Let us go and see our friend,” American Knife replied. 

Jim was lying against the pillows, his eyes closed.  Artemus was sitting next to the bed reading to him.  Jim’s eyes opened as they entered the room and he managed a painful smile, “I think it would be prudent to change Mr West’s dressings now,” American Knife said slowly.

“I think that might be wise,” Beth said, her gaze never leaving West’s face.  “I can have everything ready in five minutes.”

Jim swallowed and Beth watched the muscles in his throat work, “Will it hurt much?” he asked.

“It should not hurt at all,” American Knife said quietly. He looked up, “Miss Elizabeth, I will administer the anaesthetic if you will fetch the materials you need.  Are you ready, Mr West?”

“Can Artie stay?” Jim begged, swallowing hard again as he remembered a sensation of being drugged and helpless as the most horrendous nightmares assailed him.

“I would insist upon it,” American Knife replied.

“I will go and get the materials,” Beth said softly, and then both men were alone again.

“It will be all right, Jim,” Artemus said quietly, laying his hand on Jim’s shoulder. 

Jim nodded again, biting back the tears forming in his throat.  Artemus squeezed his shoulder encouragingly just as American Knife re-entered the room, a glass in his hand. 

“Drink,” he urged, his hand against West’s back.  Reluctantly, Jim drank the mixture and American Knife allowed him to relax back onto the pillows.  “We’ll lie you flat when that’s taken effect,” he explained.  “It will make it easier for us to change those dressings.”

Jim nodded, wishing that he could stop feeling so sick and miserable, American Knife watched him, “I assure you, my friend, you will be all right.”

Jim managed to nod, not trusting himself to speak.  Finally he swallowed and said, “You’re sure that it won’t hurt.”

“It won’t,” American Knife replied, “Close your eyes, Mr West.  It will not take long.”

American Knife was correct, thirty minutes later, Jim’s eyes were closed and his head was lolling unpleasantly.  Together, Artemus and American Knife carefully removed the pillows until Jim was lying flat on the bed, his eyes half-opened as they did so, “Whassa’ matter?” he mumbled.

“Nothing is the matter,” American Knife assured him, his hand warm on West’s shoulder, “rest now, my friend”

Jim’s eyes slid shut and American Knife looked up at Artemus, “I should like  you to sit at his head,” he said quietly, “it will reassure him that all is well.”

Artemus watched as American Knife and Elizabeth took their positions, either side of the bed, Netis standing next to Beth the jar of honey in her hands,  and then Elizabeth began to remove the bandages, but he had to look away as she opened the wax paper to reveal the burn.  When American Knife did the same for Jim’s other arm he was almost sick.  “Now we apply more honey,” Beth said, smiling at Netis who dipped the ladle into her jar of honey and began pouring honey over Jim’s entire arm and hand.  “Now if you would do the same for American Knife,” she said, smiling at Netis.

“Are you sure this will work?” Artemus asked, looking at them both.

“I have high hopes,” American Knife replied.

Jim stirred and his eyes half-opened, “Artie,” he mumbled.

Artemus laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “It’s all right, Jim,” he said gently, “go back to sleep.”

“Not really ‘sleep,” he murmured, “just floaty. No pain though.”

“That’s good, Jim,” American Knife said softly, “rest now.”

Artemus watched as they carefully re-applied honey to his hands and arms and then carefully rewrapped each digit separately, finally re-bandaging the entire arm. 

“In two days we perform the whole procedure again,” Beth said as she washed her hands. “How’s he doing?”

“He’ll be all right,” Artemus replied, he looked up at her, “Beth, you’re amazing.”

“Flatterer,” she replied, bending down to kiss  his cheek. To her surprise he moved his head so that their lips ended up touching.  She jerked back shocked by his response.

“I have wanted to do that since the first time I saw you,” Artemus replied.

“In Topeka?” she raised a perfect dark eyebrow and rising to his feet he put his arms around her and hugged her, “since Topeka,” he confirmed.

She shook her head, “Silver tongued cavalier.”

Artemus released her and she thought that she’d said something wrong but he returned to sit at Jim’s head, finally he spoke, “I wanted Lily to marry me, and I asked her, or rather-” he smiled shyly, “I was so tongue-tied that Jim finally had to ask her, and she said no.  Said that she couldn’t marry me because she’d never know who the real Artemus was.”

“Was that why you asked her to take me shopping in New York?” Beth asked slowly.

“Partly,” Artemus smiled sheepishly, “I hoped that if I proposed to her again, she might accept.  She still said no.”

“I am sorry,” Beth said slowly, “you liked her very much.”

“Ye-es,” Artemus gave her a soft smile, “but maybe we both made the right decision.”

“What about the train?” she asked, changing the subject.

“As I explained,” Artemus replied, “I’ve had another carriage coupled between the stable car and the varnish car.”

“Good,” she turned to American Knife, “do you think we should move Mr West to the train while he is resting?”

“Indeed Dr MacKenzie I think that a most prudent thought. Netis and I shall accompany you of course.”

“Still heading for the capital?” Artemus asked.

“No-oh,” Beth replied, flicking a quick look at American Knife, “I have been persuaded that it would not be in Mr West’s best interests, we are going to head for Persephone.”

“You’re taking him to _La Casa_ ,” Artemus said slowly.

“I think that would be the best course of action,” Beth replied.

Artemus put an arm around her and hugged her, “Beth I’ll be honest, I wasn’t keen on you taking Jim to the capital, I think that the Pink House will be perfect.”

“So I have your support?” she asked as he pulled her to him and kissed her. Artie released her and then said, “I’ll go and fetch the wagon.”

The door opened again and Netis slipped into the room, “I’ve prepared all the medicines and dressings we’ll need for the journey.”

Beth hugged her friend, “Thanks, Netis, I appreciate this.”

“My pleasure, Beth.  He’s well liked.  We were glad to come.”  She smiled, “I take it Mr Gordon has gone for the wagon.”

Beth nodded, “Yes.  I’m a bit concerned about how we’ll get Mr West out.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” a new voice interrupted them. Matthew Whelan had entered the room, “I understand that you’re leaving us.”

“We think that Mr West will recover better in different surroundings,” Beth explained, “but we’re also concerned that if any of his enemies discover his whereabouts it could put everyone in danger.”

Matthew nodded, “I understand, Dr MacKenzie.”

Beth nodded, “Thanks, Mr Whelan.”

“Come and find me when you need my assistance.” He said slowly.

“We will,” Netis assured him. 

Beth reseated herself beside West’s sleeping form and regarded his sleeping face thoughtfully, “He doesn’t know about _La Casa_ yet, I didn’t get the chance to tell him.”

“Do you think he’ll be pleased?”

“Relieved might be a better word,” Beth replied, looking across at Netis.

Netis nodded, “Yes, I can understand that.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story returns (briefly) to Eleanor whose injury is more serious than had at first been thought.

** Chapter 11 **

 

Dr Fielding eyed her patient as she finishing tying the sling.  “How does your hand feel?” she asked.

Eleanor scowled, “There’s still a certain amount of numbness in the fingers, it looks like there’s some nerve damage after all.”

Dr Fielding pursed her lips, “Well it’s only been three days, I think it still early to make a definitive prognosis  I told you, as the inflammation heals, you may find that there’s only a small amount of numbness or maybe none at all, I’ve strapped it up to relieve pressure on the shoulder.”

Eleanor laughed, “Are you always this upbeat?”

“The mind controls the body,” Dr Fielding replied firmly, “if you believe that you will get better then you will get better.”

Eleanor scowled and then sighed, “All right, I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” Emma smiled back and then she shook her head, “You’d rest better in bed, and I’d feel happier if you were lying down.”

Eleanor scowled again, but allowed Dr Fielding to help her to her feet and across to the bed.

Emma pulled on a rope and somewhere within the bowels of the house Eleanor beard a bell ring, “Hold onto your wrist while I remove the sling,” Dr Fielding told her, “If you sit here quietly I’ll go and fetch some pyjamas.”

As the sling was removed, Ellie felt a streak of pain run through her shoulder and barely managed to suppress a moan.  Emma looked up quickly and cursed under her breath.  Ellie grinned and Dr Fielding managed a wry grin in return.   At that moment there was a soft knock on the door and Marcia poked her head into the room.

“Miss Dennison,” Dr Fielding acknowledged, “just in time.  If you would assist me-”

Marcia nodded and walked across to the bed, “What do you want me to do?”

“If you will come here-” Emma said quickly, “I’ll need an extra pair of hands.”  She eyed Ellie thoughtfully.  “Do you want me to give you some laudanum?” she asked quickly.

From somewhere within her, Eleanor found the strength to bite back the pain and shake her head.

“All right,” Emma regarded Eleanor’s pale face and the sweat beading her forehead, “But if I see you start to exhibit symptoms of distress I’m going to give you something.”

Eleanor managed a quick, brief nod and Emma’s lips tightened.

“Marcia, if you’d come over here and kneel behind Miss Talbot, I’ll tell you what to do.”

Dr Fielding fetched the pyjamas and then she said, “All right, Marcia, if you’ll do exactly what I say, we should be able to get her into the pyjamas.”

Marcia nodded and Ellie managed another weak grin at her friend.  Afterwards, Eleanor would say that it was one of the most gruelling experiences of her life. She was acutely aware of Emma’s hand on her wrist and arm holding it securely against her torso.  Despite Marcia being as gentle as she could, she couldn’t suppress a moan as the sleeve was lifted over the bandages.  Everything went white as her head fell forward onto Emma’s shoulder.

It was the cool cloth on the back of her neck that roused her.  “Ohhh,” she moaned, lifting her head from Dr Fielding’s shoulder.

“Hey, back with us for a bit?” Emma asked gently.

Eleanor managed a weak smile, “I’ll live.  Sorry about that.”

“No apologies necessary,” Marcia said gently.  “Let’s get you settled “

When Eleanor was resting against the pillows Emma stood up, “Would you like a cup of cocoa before bed?”

“As long as you promise not to drug it,” Eleanor replied, smiling up at her.

“All right, I promise.” Dr Fielding left the room and Ellie smiled at Marcia, “Thanks for your help,” she said, “sorry I passed out.”

Marcia smiled and bent to kiss her friend’s forehead, “See you tomorrow.”  She laid her hand on Eleanor’s uninjured shoulder and was gone.  Dr Fielding brought the cup of chocolate up to her and sat with her until she’d finished it.  Then she picked up the mug, and kissing Eleanor’s cheek left her friend to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Jim is transported back to The Wanderer and the characters prepare to travel to Persephone and from there to The Pink House where Jim will reside while his arms heal.

** Chapter 12 **

 

Beth carefully examined Jim’s supine figure and then looked up, “He’s stable, if you want we can move him now.”

“I’ll get Mr Whelan,” Artemus said standing up, “it would not be fair to exclude him, he did offer his help.”

Jim only half-remembered the trip to The Wanderer.  He was lifted gently and laid on the stretcher and carried out to the covered wagon.  Lifted into the back, pillows were packed around him so that he couldn’t roll and hurt himself.  Beth took up position next to his head and smiled as Artemus clambered in behind her.  She placed the stethoscope’s diaphragm against the side of his neck and Artemus watched quietly.  Eventually she removed the earpieces and smiled back at him, “Pulse is steady, breathing regular.”

“How long do you think he’ll sleep?” Artie asked.

Beth grinned, “Not sure.  You know what effect American Knife’s concoctions tend to have.”

Artemus nodded, “We do.”

“Anyway, it’s probably a good thing that he sleeps through this,” Beth replied, “it wouldn’t be comfortable for him.”

Jim was still asleep when the prairie schooner pulled up at The Wanderer.  Carefully Jim was lifted down and carried into the second carriage.  He was settled in the bed and Beth looked up at them, “He’ll be fine.  We can move whenever you’re ready Mr Gordon.”

It was the rocking of the train that roused him, he’d remembered his arms being carefully unwrapped and a part of him had been afraid, but to his surprise and relief there had been no pain; he vaguely remembered American Knife and Beth speaking quietly above him, and Artie’s hand warm on his shoulder.  Finally, he slid into a deep, painless slumber.  He could hear someone singing softly and tried to stretch his ears to listen.

“He is sounding forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgement seat, O be swift my soul to answer him, be merciful-”

“Jubilant,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

“Jim, you’re awake!” Beth bent over him and he cracked open his eyelids to stare up into her delighted face. 

“Beth,” he muttered, “where are we?”

“Aboard The Wanderer,” she replied gently.”You fell asleep while American Knife and I were redressing your arms.”

“Heading for the capital?” he asked miserably.

“Actually we had a talk while you were sleeping,” Beth said gently, “we’re heading for Persephone and then onto _La Casa_.”  His eyes closed and she thought she saw tears seeping from beneath the closed lids.  Biting her lip, she laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze.  “Everything _will_ be all right, James.”

The door to their carriage opened and Artemus stepped in, followed by Netis, “Jim!” he said delightedly, “brought you some supper.  Netis will take over from you, Beth and let you take a break.”

“Netis?” One of Jim’s eyebrows went up in a puzzled frown.

“It is the name I was given when I took refuge with American Knife and his people,” she replied, “and it is the name I shall take when I marry American Knife next year.”

“Can I still call you Angharad?” Jim asked.

“I’d prefer Harry,” she replied.  “Only my mother, and Colonel Richmond call me Angharad, and I’m sure that she only calls me Angharad when she’s angry with me.”

Tucking the napkin into the top of Jim’s pyjama jacket, Artie set the bed tray across Jim’s legs and then setting the tray across his legs and then with a flourish, lifted the dish cover to reveal a chicken casserole.

“I used breast,” Artemus explained as he perched on the edge of the bed and stabbed a piece of chicken, “I thought it would be easier for you to eat.”

“You could always hold a leg while he takes bites out of it,” Netis grinned.

“Too messy,” Artemus grumbled. 

“How do you feel about our new destination?” Netis asked.

“Better,” Jim admitted, “I’d still prefer somewhere quieter.”

“We know,” Netis replied, “but not possible this time.”

Artie’s eyes were dark as he held a glass for Jim to take a drink from, “Sure you’re okay, Jim?”

“Yes, I think so,” West smiled, then took another mouthful from the glass Artie was holding for him.  He swallowed and then sighed, “Any idea how long I’ll be like this?”

“A while yet, Mr West,” Netis replied, “at least a week before those burns start to heal properly.  I would counsel patience, although for someone like you that may be difficult.”

Jim settled himself back on the bed and nodded, “Tell me what you’ve been doing since we last met,” Jim said as Artie lifted the tray off his lap. “It’ll help take my mind off my injuries.”

“Here,” Artemus handed her a full glass.  “You may need it.”

Netis took a mouthful and swallowing, turned to West, “Where would you like me to begin, James?”

“How about after the last time we met?” Jim smiled, “as I recall, you saved both our lives.”

Netis took another sip of wine, swallowed and taking a deep breath, began, “Elizabeth and I said goodbye to you and then we took the train to Washington D.C. to meet Miss Richmond.”

 


	13. Try Self-Hypnosis....

** Chapter 13 **

 

Eleanor fidgeted uncomfortably, her shoulder was throbbing and even Dr Fielding’s willow-bark concoction hadn’t really helped.  Sighing she leant her head back and closed her eyes.

There was a soft knocking on her door, she opened her eyes and lifted her head, “Come in!” she called.  The door opened and Dr Fielding entered the room, a frown creasing her usually smooth forehead, “Still no relief,” she said tersely, looking at her the sweat beading her friend’s forehead.

“Not yet, no,” Eleanor replied, forcing a painful smile.

“I really wish I could persuade you to take some laudanum,” Emma pursed her lips.

“Not a chance,” Eleanor hissed through clenched teeth, “it gives me horrendous dreams.”

“Well at least you’ve kept supper down,” Emma replied, “I’m going to get you a cup of tea – I need to keep your fluids up.”

Tired, Eleanor nodded wearily, Dr Fielding quietly left the room.  She returned, fifteen minutes later and set the cup on the table beside the bed, next to Eleanor’s right hand.  “Drink as much as you can,” she urged and left quietly.

Eleanor shakily lifted the mug and hesitantly took a sip.  She was just finishing when Dr Fielding knocked and entered the room, “Good.” She said when she saw that the cup was empty, “now will you try to sleep?”

“Actually,” Eleanor replied, “I could use your help.”

Emma sat down beside the bed, “To do what?”

“I’m going to try and use self-hypnosis to try and control my pain levels,” Eleanor explained, “I need your assistance.”

Dr Fielding nodded, “All right.  Do you need anything specific?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Ellie managed a faint smile, “I need you to rouse me about fifteen minutes after I’ve entered trance.”

Dr Fielding nodded, “All right.”  Eleanor allowed Emma to settle her more comfortably against the pillows.   Eventually Eleanor motioned for her to stop, she smiled at her friend and then began her self-induction.

A voice was calling her, she followed it up what seemed to be a long, winding path.  Taking a deep breath she opened her eyes and stared up into the face of Emma Fielding.  “Hey,” she murmured.

“Feeling better?” Emma asked gently, “how’s the pain?”  Eleanor swallowed and nodded.  Emma smiled, “Judging by the expression on your face I’d say your session was successful.”

“Very,” Eleanor replied, putting her right hand up to smother a yawn. 

“Get some sleep,” Dr Fielding ordered, “I’ll make sure that you’re not disturbed.”

Eleanor nodded, closing her eyes she leant back against the pillows and sighed.  Her last waking thought was hearing her friend close the door before sleep closed over her like a cloud.

It was daylight when she woke again, sitting up she looked around bemused.  There was  a soft tapping on the door and then Marcia entered, she smiled when she saw Eleanor was awake, “I thought you’d sleep forever!”

“How long?” Eleanor enquired guardedly.

“Almost a day,” Marcia replied, “if I help you dress do you want to come down to breakfast.”

“Now that would be wonderful,” Eleanor replied, “be nice to get back to some sense of normality.”

“I know,” Marcia replied.  Gingerly, Eleanor sat up and Marcia fetched a blouse for her.   Slowly, Eleanor was helped into the garment.   Eventually, Marcia refastened the sling and then looked at her friend, “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Not as bad as I thought,” Eleanor managed a faint grin, “but I may have to give myself another session.”

“You’re going to have to show me how to do that someday,” Marcia remarked.

“With pleasure,” Eleanor replied, “I’ll teach it to anyone who’s interested.”


	14. Back to Jim....

** Chapter 14 **

 

“So, after you met up with Miss Richmond, what then?” Jim asked curiously.

“We took a prairie schooner filled with supplies to Persephone and _La Casa Rosada_.  Then the really hard work began.” She grinned.

Suddenly the door to their carriage opened again and Beth entered the room, “Sorry to bother you, Mr Gordon, but your telegraph’s chattering.”

Artemus rose to his feet and moved across to her, bending to kiss her lips he straightened up, “On my way.”

Beth moved and eased herself on the edge of the bed, “Feeling any better?” she asked gently.

“Netis is regaling me with stories of your journey to _La Casa_ ,” Jim grinned up at her and Beth was relieved to see that his face had relaxed. 

Netis held the glass for James to take another sip and said, “Shall I continue?”

“Please,” Jim smiled.

“My education began all over again when I arrived at _The Pink House_.” Netis smiled, “I learnt how to shoot, both revolver and rife; basic first aid – both Hannah and Phoebe insisted that we have a grounding in decorum and deportment.”

“Anything else?” Jim asked, one eyebrow lifting in surprise.  “Butchering a hog perchance?”

“Not yet,” Beth grinned, “I learnt so much when I was there, and did things I never thought possible.”

“Renaissance Women,” Jim murmured softly.

“As you and Mr Gordon are Renaissance Men,” Beth replied.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere,” Jim yawned, suddenly tired.

“I think I shall send American Knife in to help you with the necessaries,” Beth said gently, “perhaps you may even be able to get up tomorrow.”

“Now that’s something to look forward to,” Jim smiled again and then both women bent to gently kiss him on the cheek, “goodnight, Jim.  Sleep well.”

Artemus was standing by the telegraph table, his expression dark and fathomless.  Beth walked across to him and laid a hand on his arm, “What is it?” she asked.

“We’ve been asked to pick up one of your colleagues,” Artemus looked down at her, “Eleanor Talbot.  She was badly injured on a mission.  One of your doctors thinks that she ought to recuperate at _La Casa_.”

“Do you know how badly she was hurt?” Beth asked, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in her throat.

“The message didn’t say,” Artie replied, “Beth, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t tell Jim,” Beth replied, “not yet anyway.”

Artemus nodded, as American Knife stepped back into the room.  “I’ve given Mr West another dose of pain-killer,” he explained, “I shall take the first watch.”

“That would be wonderful, sweetheart,” Netis reached up to lay a hand along American Knife’s cheek and press her lips to his.  Then she was slipping past him to her own room.

“Artie,” Beth turned to the dark-haired agent, “I think I’ll call it a night too.  Will you want some help turning Jim in a couple of hours?”

“I’ll help American Knife with that,” Artie assured her, “I’ve some reading to catch up on.”

When the two men were alone Artemus sagged onto the settee and ran a hand across his face, American Knife seated himself opposite and waited quietly, eventually Artemus spoke, “I didn’t tell Beth the whole story behind the telegram.  Eleanor was shot while on assignment and while the surgeon managed to remove the bullet it may have left her unable to continue to work for their organization.”

“I see,” American Knife said slowly, “and Miss Eleanor knows this?”

Artemus shook his head, “I don’t know.  They want her to take some time off while she heals – as I understand it she was going to take a train to the nearest town, Persephone, but when they heard that The Wanderer was travelling there they telegraphed the capital to ask if she could join us.”

“When will she be arriving?” American Knife enquired.

“Tomorrow morning,” Gordon managed a taut smile. “That’s when we’re picking her up anyway.”

“I would suggest then, that you go to bed,” American Knife said quietly, “you look exhausted, Artemus, and you need to look after yourself too.”

Artie closed his eyes and managed a faint smile, “You’re right.  Okay, I’m going to hit the hay, call me if you need anything.”

American Knife nodded and then he was alone, he finished his drink, listening to the clack-clack of the train and then he went to sit beside his sleeping friend.

 

 


	15. You're going to La Casa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite her protests, Eleanor is sent off to La Casa to recuperate and discovers that Jim has also been badly injured.

** Chapter 15 **

 

“You’ve done what?” Eleanor glared at her friend and superior, but Hannah Richmond merely regarded her quietly from dark brown eyes.

“I contacted my father in Washington DC and asked if there was any way to get you to Persephone faster.” She replied.  “I got a message back telling me that The Wanderer was on its way there and since there will be two physicians aboard I felt that would be the best place for you.”

“Why is The Wanderer going to Persephone?” Eleanor asked slowly.

Hannah looked uncomfortable and then a look of resignation crossed her face, “Oh well, you’d find out anyway.  Jim was badly injured in the town of Golden.”

“How badly?” Eleanor asked, swallowing hard.

“Both arms seriously burned,” Hannah replied, watching her friend’s face blanch. 

Eleanor didn’t respond, merely swallowed hard and Hannah saw the shine of tears in her green eyes.  “He’ll be all right, Ellie,” she assured her, “He has two of the best physicians with him.”

Eleanor clamped her lips together, not trusting herself to respond.  “Could I have a moment.”

“Of course.” And Hannah left her alone.  Blinking back tears, whether of anguish or frustration, she was never sure, Eleanor cursed inwardly.  Finally, wiping a stray tear that had trickled down her cheek and checking the mirror to make sure that her make-up was immaculate, she straightened up and opened the door.

Hannah was waiting outside and Eleanor noticed, as if for the first time, how white and strained her friend looked.  “Jesus, Hannah,” she murmured, “it’s bad isn’t it?”

“This time, yes, Ellie.”

Eleanor closed her eyes and drew in a deep lungful of air, then exhaled forcefully, opening her eyes she forced a smile to a frozen face and managed to speak, “Then I’d better not fall apart on him.”

For an answer, Hannah closed the distance between them and carefully, so as not to hurt her friend, pulled her into a gentle hug. 

Eleanor thought that at this point she might lose it completely.  Fighting back tears she leant into the embrace and buried her face in Hannah’s shoulder.  Eventually she put her right hand out and pushed herself away.

Quietly Hannah handed her a cloth to wipe her eyes and then she said, “It’ll be all right, you said so yourself.”

Eleanor gave her a watery grin and Hannah cupped her friend’s neck, pulling her into another embrace.  Eventually, Eleanor was released and she lifted her head, “Thanks, Hannah.”

“We’d better get you packed and to the Railway Station.”

Eventually Eleanor was smartly dressed in a blue moiré outing jacket and skirt, her left arm supported by a sling.

“Right, I’ll have Tavington take your cases down to the cab,” Marcia was standing in the doorway.  Eleanor nodded and followed her friend out of the house.

The sun had barely risen and mist was curling in tendrils around the wheels of their cab when Marcia helped her friend onto the platform.  “How are you feeling?” She asked.

Eleanor managed a faint smile, “I’ve been better,” she responded, “tired, shocked.  Poor Jim.”

“Don’t fawn over him,” Marcia warned, “and don’t baby him.”

Eleanor managed a taut smile, “I’ll do my best not to.”

Marcia grinned, “All right.  I believe you.”

Eleanor bit her lower lip, wondering if she could keep her promise, then The Wanderer was chugging into the station, white smoke billowing from the funnel.  Eleanor spotted a white and strained Artemus  standing on the running board as the train screeched to a halt. 

His gaze raked up and down her torso and then very gently, he pulled her towards him in an embrace, being careful not to put too much pressure on her left shoulder.

“Everyone’s still asleep,” he explained, “good morning, Miss Dennison.”

“Mr Gordon,” she acknowledged, “good to see you again, although I could wish for better circumstances.”

“Me also,” Artemus replied.  He smiled and lifting Eleanor’s cases entered the varnish car.  The two women embraced, “Take all the time you need,” Marcia said, “I’ll see you soon.”  Then Artemus was opening the door of the varnish car and offering Eleanor his arm, “May I?” he asked softly.

Eleanor smiled and took his arm, “Thank you, Artemus.”

Gratefully she sank onto the sofa as Artemus slipped into the galley.  He returned carrying two mugs and Eleanor could smell the coffee.

“That smells really good,” she said, taking the mug from him.

“You look dreadful,” Artemus said, as he sat down opposite her, “washed out.”

“I know,” Eleanor grimaced.  She took  a sip of the coffee, “now I’m controlling the pain I should start to look and feel better.”

Artemus frowned, “How?  Laudanum?”

“Remember when I put Mr West into a trance, and operated on you, Artemus?”  and when Artemus nodded she continued, “I’ve done the same thing for my shoulder.”

Artemus nodded, “I see.  It works?”  She sipped her coffee and nodded.

“Would it work on Jim?” Artemus asked slowly.

Eleanor almost choked and after managing to swallow looked up at Artemus.  Eventually she found her voice and demanded, “Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” Gordon replied firmly.

Eleanor took another sip of coffee and frowned, “I don’t know.  It worked the first time because Mr West had been drugged.  This time – I don’t know.”

“Would it work?” Artemus asked quickly.

“It worked on you – and its worked on me,” Eleanor replied, “so providing I _can_ hypnotise him, then we’ve got a good chance.”

Artemus nodded, “Would you like breakfast?”

“Nothing too elaborate,” Eleanor pleaded, “I can only use my right hand.”

“I could cut it up for you,” Artemus promised, but missed the glare of fury she directed at his retreating back. 

She was sipping her tea and watching the landscape roll by outside her window when Beth walked into the varnish car.  Her face brightened up when she saw Eleanor, “Good morning!” she said.

“Elizabeth!” Eleanor smiled.  “How’s Jim?  What are his injuries like?”

Beth held up her hands, “Hey, easy, easy, he’s all right, he’s all right-”

Eleanor blinked away tears and said, “Are you sure?”

“The burns I’m treating,” Beth assured her, “it’s the pain that I’m most concerned about.”

“And Eleanor thinks that she can help with that.” Artemus had just re-entered the main varnish car with another cup.

“Your hypnosis?” Beth raised a dark eyebrow, “you think it’ll work?”

“Depends how deep a trance I can induce,” Eleanor replied.  She sighed and looked up at Artemus, “I still don’t know if this will work.”

Beth took the cup from Artemus and smiled at Eleanor, “I’ve seen you work miracles, Ellie.”

Eleanor took another sip of her coffee, “Yes, well.  We’ll see shall we.”

“Would you like breakfast?” Artemus asked softly.  “I’m doing omelette for Eleanor, would you like the same?”

“That would be great, Artemus,” Beth answered.

Artemus nodded and then disappeared into the galley.  Beth turned to her friend and asked, “How are you, really?”

Eleanor managed a faint smile and sighed again, “I’ll live I suppose.  I’m more worried about Jim.”

“And I’m worried about the pair of you,” Netis had entered the room and both women looked up and smiled, “Good morning, Eleanor.”

“Harry!” Eleanor rose to her feet and very gently, Netis embraced her.

“I heard about your injury,” Netis said softly as she sat down opposite.

“My own fault,” Eleanor grimaced, “I wasn’t fast enough.” She smiled at Netis, “How’s Jim?  And don’t lie to me.”

Netis and Beth regarded one another quietly, “He’s been badly hurt,” Netis explained, “although it’s his mental state that I am more concerned with.  Perhaps you can help.”

“He may not wish to see me,” Eleanor explained.

“If your ‘hypnosis’ technique can help him, and mean that he will be free of pain, then I think we have no choice.”

Eleanor looked from one to the other and then nodded, “All right. I’ll do my best.”

“American Knife is sitting with him at the moment,” Netis explained.  “We’ll have breakfast and then I’ll take you to see him.”

The door opened and Artemus entered carrying two plates, “Good morning, Dr O’Neill,” he said, “breakfast?”

Netis looked up and grinned, “That would be great, thanks Artemus.”

“I thought this would be perfect,” Artemus said as he set Eleanor’s breakfast in front of her.  She looked down and saw the omelette and a shy smile curved her lips, looking up she said softly, “Thanks, Artie.”

“My pleasure, Eleanor,” he replied quietly, he set another plate down in front of Beth, “Omelette for you too,” he said, “thought I’d keep it simple.  Same for you, Netis?”

“Yes please, Artemus,” Netis replied, “want to do the same for Jim?”

“I think so,” Artie replied.

“Are we putting you out?” Eleanor asked quietly.

Artemus managed a crooked smile and replied, “The Wanderer isn’t built for so many people, but I think we’ll manage.”  He paused and caught Eleanor’s eye, “will it matter if he has breakfast first?”

Eleanor shrugged, “It shouldn’t.”

“May I sit in when you hypnotise him?” Beth asked.

Eleanor nodded, “Of course. In fact I’d welcome it.”

Artemus had cleared away the plates and served coffee when Netis got to her feet, “I’d better go and relieve American Knife – and see if Mr West is awake.”

“I’ll come with you,” Artemus said, “see what he wants for breakfast.”  Netis flashed him a quick smile.

Eleanor nodded, “Call me when you’re ready.”

Both of them nodded and then Artemus was escorting Netis through to the third car.  Eleanor took another sip of her coffee and regarded Beth thoughtfully, “This is not how I’d have had Jim and I meet again.”

“I know that,” Beth replied gently.

Eleanor swallowed, “He’ll hate me seeing him like this; and I’ll hate him seeing me like this.”

Beth frowned as she tried to process what Eleanor had just said and then her face cleared and she said, “I know.  Neither of you want to see the other when they’re hurting.”

“Call it pride,” Eleanor said ruefully.

“I could call it something else,” Beth replied, “obstinacy springs to mind.”

Eleanor was about to respond when the door opened and American Knife entered the carriage.  Eleanor rose to her feet and extended her right hand, “Good morning, American Knife.”

“Good morning, Miss Talbot,” American Knife said warmly, shaking her hand.  He poured himself a cup of coffee and seated himself on the settee opposite.  “Netis tells me that you may have a technique to help Mr West control the pain from his burns.”

Eleanor nodded, “I believe that I can even use this technique to enable you to change the dressings on his arms.”

American Knife looked thoughtful, “You’re talking about hypnotism.”

Eleanor nodded, “Yes.  I managed to induce a trance state a couple of years ago; however on that occasion Mr West had been drugged.”

“You have misgivings about being able to induce a trance state.”

“It is easier when the patient is relaxed,” Eleanor replied.

American Knife looked thoughtful, “I believe that the patient also needs to be focussed and to be able to follow instructions.”

Eleanor smiled, “That’s a good part of it.  Having a vivid imagination helps too – oh American Knife, I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid that the man you love will not wish to see you?” American Knife said gently.

Eleanor felt her cheeks flare scarlet and she looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

American Knife spoke gently into the silence, “Your fears are groundless.  He will be glad you are here.”

Eleanor looked up into eyes of such understanding and compassion that she was silenced.  He laid a warm hand on her shoulder, “Let your fears go,” he smiled, “they are nothing, and will dissolve as mist in the sunshine.”

The tendril of ice that had begun to curl in her stomach dissolved away.  Closing her eyes she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Again you come to our assistance,” Beth smiled, “you are extraordinarily skilled, American Knife.”

The man shrugged, “Sometimes fear can paralyse a person so much that they cannot see the way ahead clearly.  I just have the gift of making them see beyond their fear.”

Beth eyed him thoughtfully, “I think there is much more to it than that.  I may even take you up on your offer to teach me.”

“I would be honoured,” American Knife replied, “but I must support all of you in this endeavour.”

“Why?” Eleanor asked curiously.

“Because you are the future,” American Knife smiled, “and resisting the future is futile.  It will come whether we are ready for it or not.  I would prefer to be ready.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

** Chapter 16 **

It was his arms that roused Jim from a fitful sleep, He cracked open stiff, heavy eyelids and stared into Netis’s face.

“Good morning,” she said softly, “how do you feel?”

He cleared his throat and managed a pained smile.

“That good?” Netis smiled, “I may have a solution.”

Jim scowled and demanded, “More of American Knife’s concoction?  All I do is sleep-”

“Actually, no,” she replied, “but we’ll discuss it after breakfast.”

He scowled and Netis grinned, “It’ll be all right, Jim.”

The door opened and Artemus poked his head around the door, “Morning, Jim, I brought breakfast.”

From somewhere, James West managed to dredge a small smile.  Then Artemus was settling a tray over Jim’s arms.

“Omelette,” he said.

“Coffee?” Jim asked sharply, perhaps too sharply.

“Tea,” Artemus replied.  He eyed his friend thoughtfully.  There was a tautness about his friend and if he looked closely Artemus could see the lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. He laid a warm hand on his friend’s shoulder, “It’ll be all right, Jim.”

James managed a twisted smile, “How?” he demanded, the green eyes filling with tears.

“Eat your breakfast,” Artie replied gently.

Jim couldn’t eat very much, the pain and itching in his arms made it difficult to concentrate and drove away any appetite he might have had.  Netis lifted the bed tray and came to sit on the bed, “They’re really hurting aren’t they?”

Jim opened his eyes to stare at her.  “More drugs?” he asked miserably.

“I’ll give you half,” Netis said softly, “I just want to take the edge off your pain, I don’t want you going to sleep.” She held the cup for him and then said, “I’ll be back in two shakes.”

From somewhere, Jim managed a nod and then lay back against the pillows, closing his eyes and willing the medicine to take effect.

The door opened again and familiar voice asked, “Jim, sweetheart?”

He opened tear-filled eyes and stared into the face of Eleanor Talbot.

“Ellie,” he whispered brokenly, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m being sent under duress to _La Casa_ ,” Eleanor grinned.

“You’re hurt,” he managed.

“Better now,” she replied gently, “you’re not so good yourself though are you?”  A wry smile touched the strong lips and despite herself Eleanor leant forward and kissed him.  She sat back and said, “Oh Jim.”

Jim swallowed hard and asked, “What happened?”

Eleanor’s lips curled in a wry grin, “Hazard of the job.  Ah, Jim, when I heard-”

A dark eyebrow lifted and she regarded him silently, eventually he looked sheepish and had the grace to look away.   “It’s bad this time,” he said slowly.

“Mmmm, I gathered,” Eleanor replied.

“You’re not going to chastise me for running into a burning building?” he raised a dark eyebrow in query.

“No,” Eleanor replied, “because it would make no difference, you are the bravest, kindest, noblest-” she had to stop as he suddenly learnt forward again stopping her conversation with a kiss.

Aware that she couldn’t take his hand, Eleanor reached up to cup Jim’s face with her right hand and when he broke the kiss, she ran her thumb over the strong lips.  The action was startlingly erotic and suddenly she was leaning forward to kiss him again, their mouths opening; their breath mingling as they kissed like two people seeking salvation.

Eventually they parted and sat staring into one another’s eyes, Eleanor’s hand still resting on his cheek.

“You’ll unman me woman,” Jim groaned as he shifted position.

A slow smirk crossed Eleanor’s face, “Oh I wouldn’t say that, Jim.”

“You’re incorrigible,” He grinned.

“Oh I do hope so,” she replied.

Jim blinked away tears and managed a rueful smile, “Gods, Ellie, I’ve really messed myself up this time.”

“You’ll be all right,” Eleanor promised, “and I have an idea about your arms.”

“How,” he asked curiously.

“I thought I would try hypnosis,” she replied.  “Netis said she gave you about half of the painkiller, are you feeling anything yet?”

“Bit woozy,” he confessed.  “But I’m not sure that hypnosis would work, people have tried before.”

“As I said to you before when I operated on Mr Gordon, you have to want to be hypnotised.  It won’t work if you resist.”

“Think you can do it with me?”

“I think if you want this to work, it could help with the pain in your arms and changing your bandages.”

He raised an eyebrow and Eleanor laughed, “You don’t believe me?”

“Well I’ve seen you perform miracles-” he began, “I’m just not sure about its efficacy where I’m concerned.”

“Will you try it this once?” Eleanor asked, her face solemn.

James regarded her quietly and then said,, “All right, I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Fair enough, “ Eleanor replied, “would you like Artemus to sit in?”

Jim nodded quickly and Eleanor thought she caught the edge of fear in his eyes, “It’ll be all right, love,” she said softly, bringing her right hand up to cup his face again.  She stroked the skin next to his eyebrow with her thumb and said softly, “I promise you, sweetheart, everything will be all right.”

She leant forward and kissed him again, feeling him shift and a low moan emerge from between his lips.  He broke the kiss and she opened her eyes; Jim’s were very dark.  Eventually, he found his voice, “You sure, love?”

She smiled and gently kissed him again, then she said, “As sure as I can be.”

He smiled and closing his eyes pressed his forehead against hers.  Once breakfast was cleared away, Artemus brought her a cup of hot, strong coffee.  He smiled at Jim, “None for you, James-my-boy, although you can have a drink of water if you want.”

James grimaced, but allowed Artie to hold the glass for him while he drank.  When he’d finished and Eleanor had wiped the trickle of water away from the side of his face, Artemus asked, “Are you sure Beth and I can stay, Ellie?”

“Of course,” Eleanor flashed him a brilliant smile, “I was counting on it.”

“How do we go about this?” Jim asked, “do you wave a crystal pendant in front of my eyes like you did for Artie the last time?”

“I think that we shall try a slightly different technique this time,” Eleanor replied softly, “Jim, just close your eyes and relax back into the pillows.”

He grimaced, but did as she asked, closing his eyes and settling back against the pillows.  “Are you sure that this is going to work?”

“We’re going to try,” Eleanor insisted firmly.  “Now take a nice deep breath, and close your eyes.”

She continued her induction, depth testing was challenging, but eventually she was satisfied with Jim’s depth of trance.  Then she began the anaesthesia, “Jim I want you to imagine that there’s a knob in front of you and it’s marked ‘Pain’.  I want you to tell me what number the pain is at now?”

Jim stirred and murmured, “Ten.”

“All right Jim, I want you to turn the knob all the way down to zero.  And as you do all the pain will flow out of your fingers and simply melt away.  I want you to do that now and nod when you’ve turned the ‘Pain’ knob all the way down and the pain has gone.”

She took another sip of her now cold coffee, but she barely noticed, her heart was thumping in her ears and it took every ounce of self-control to keep her voice level, she swallowed again and then Jim nodded.

“Jim, can you hear me?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he said softly.

“Jim, it’ll soon be time for you to emerge from trance and I know that you feel really relaxed at the moment and there’s no pain in your arms.  And all you have to do when you feel the pain again is to think of the words ‘Pain Knob’ and the pain will drain away, just like water down a sink. Can you see that now; the pain just draining away whenever you need it to.”  She waited and then Jim nodded again slowly, a soft smile curving his lips, she took a quick look at Beth and Artemus and they both nodded silently in acknowledgement, she swallowed and continued, “I’m going to count from one to five now Jim and when I reach the number five you will be completely awake and alert.  With each number that I count you become more and more alert, until on the number five, you will open your eyes and be wide awake.”   She took a deep breath and began, “One: Beginning to awaken now, aware of my voice and the room around you.  Two: Waking from the trance state feeling fantastic, bringing with you all that you have learned. Three: Aware of your body now, and the position of your arms and legs. Four: Wiggle your toes for me as as you begin to open your eyes, feeling relaxed and refreshed-”  She had to suppress a giggle when she saw Jim start to move his toes beneath the sheets.  Suppressing her laughter she continued, “Five: Eyes open and wide awake.” 

Jim opened his eyes, blinked and stretched, he looked across at his friend, Ellie regarded him quietly, “How’s the pain?”

Jim stared at her, “That’s amazing – how?”

Eleanor shrugged, “I told you.  Hypnosis can do some amazing things – although you still won’t be able to do cartwheels or use your gun yet.”

“But I can get up?”

“I think so,” Eleanor replied, “we’ll change your arms later and I guarantee you won’t feel any pain whatsoever.”

“What about this?” he gestured to the thin tube running from beneath the sheets down into the guzunder.

“If you’re willing I can get either Mr Gordon or American Knife to remove it,” Eleanor replied, “but you’ll still need someone to assist you with your toilet.”

“They’ll help me powder my nose?” Jim gave a wry smile, “Thank you, sweetheart.  Now come here and kiss me.”

She leant forward, and gently touched his lips with her own.  “See you in the other carriage.”

When they were alone Artie looked at his friend, “Has the pain really gone?”

Jim lifted his arms and then lowering them looked across at his friend, “I wouldn’t have believed it, but yes.  That’s amazing.”

“But you saw what she did for me two years ago,” Artie replied.

“Not sure I believed it then either,” Jim admitted.  “A part of me thought you were being stoic.”

Artie laid a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Jim, with those injuries I could not have been ‘stoic’ as you put it.  Now shall we get you dressed?”

 


	17. Chapter 17

** Chapter 17 **

 

Netis eyed the young agent thoughtfully, Artemus had insisted on dressing Jim, not in his usual teal suit, but in a loose fitting blue shirt, he still looked pale and washed out but the taut lines around his eyes and lips, had smoothed away and he looked more relaxed.

“Am I allowed a drink now?” Jim turned to the woman sitting at his elbow.

“Certainly,” Eleanor replied, “although not to excess.”

“No mother,” he teased, gently kissing her on the lips.  Eleanor blushed scarlet to her hairline and when he broke the kiss he laughed softly.

“I shall go and start preparing lunch,” Artemus said, rising to his feet.

“Would you like a hand?” Beth asked suddenly.

“I’d appreciate that, Sweetheart,” Artemus replied.  Smiling, Elizabeth followed Artemus into the galley.

Jim shook his head, “I’m out of action for four days and suddenly Artie’s calling Dr MacKenzie, _Sweetheart_?”

“I don’t think you being out of action has anything to do with it,” Netis replied.  She smiled up at American Knife.

Jim managed a weary smile, “When do you have to change these dressings?”

“This afternoon,” American Knife said slowly.  “Miss Talbot, do you think your hypnosis can help with that?”

“I believe so, American Knife,” Eleanor replied.

Jim eyed her thoughtfully, “I think this hypnosis of yours is an untapped resource.”

Eleanor shrugged, “It is just something that has always interested me.  When I was younger my parents took me to see the master of hypnotism himself, Dr James Braid.”

James raised an eyebrow, “Your foot?”

“He generally operated on children with talipes,” Eleanor explained, “but the polio had left my left calf and foot somewhat deformed. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do except refer me to one of his colleagues who prescribed specially made boots and the calliper.  She paused and took a sip of her drink, “I’ve been left with some residual disability which is why I have to wear the brace, but it could have been so much worse.  I was lucky, my parents insisted that with the right shoes and this-” she tapped her left calf, “I could do anything anyone else could do.”

James smiled, suddenly proud of this woman, she smiled at him, “Want another drink?” she asked gently.  He nodded and she held the glass for him to take a mouthful, he swallowed and she asked, “Finished?”

He nodded, and she set the glass down on the table.  He leant back and closed his eyes, and Eleanor regarded him sympathetically, “A bit much isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” Jim replied, opening his eyes.  “So much for peace and quiet-”

“With your injuries, Mr West, that would not have been possible,” American Knife spoke and the cool, level voice drew a smile from the strong lips.

The door from the galley opened and Artemus entered carrying a large serving dish, “I thought I’d do a roast for lunch.”

“Am I limited in what I can eat?” James asked, looking quickly at Eleanor.

“Not too much coffee or alcohol,” Eleanor replied thoughtfully, “both could have an adverse effect on your system when trying to put you back into trance.  Otherwise, eat what you wish.”

Jim nodded and then watched as Beth laid the table, then Artemus ladled the meal into bowls and bowing, said, “Lunch is served, my friends.”

Automatically Jim’s hands went down to push himself from the couch he was sitting on and then he grimaced, “This could take some getting used to.”  Artie moved smoothly across to him, his hands on Jim’s waist, lifting the younger man into a standing position.  For a moment, Jim was embarrassed and then he looked at Eleanor and the others, they were as sublimely unconcerned as if James and Artie had been discussing the weather.

Eleanor seated herself at the table and busied herself by tucking her napkin into the top of her jacket.  Jim eased himself into the seat next to Eleanor and smiled at her, “Not sure this is going to work.” He remarked.

“But it will give you a chance to get out of bed.”  Netis remarked. “And I think if you stayed in bed you’d go crazy.”

Jim sighed and nodded as Artie stabbed a piece of meat and held it out for him to take a bite, Beth drew Eleanor’s plate towards her and began to cut her friend’s meat and vegetables, Eleanor glanced at her and mouthed the word, _Thanks_.  Picking up her fork she stabbed a piece of meat, and lifting the instrument to her lips and taking a mouthful, chewed and swallowed.  Jim sighed.

“This whole thing is getting to you isn’t it?” Eleanor asked gently as she took another mouthful.

“Yeah,” Jim managed a wry smile, he bit his lip suddenly and closed his eyes.  She eyed him thoughtfully and said, “We’re going to have to do something about that.  But as for me, I hope to hypnotise myself in the next few days to try and reduce the pain in my arm." 

Artemus held out another piece of meat and Eleanor watched as Jim took a bite.  She cut her potato with the side of her fork and speared half of it. She was about to put it into her mouth when she realised everyone was looking at her, “Have I missed something?” she asked.

Artie held out half a potato, watching as Jim took another mouthful, “I believe we were wondering how you were going to go about it,” he replied.

“Simple expedient of putting myself back into trance when I’m resting in bed,” Eleanor replied, “I just need someone with me to bring me out after about fifteen minutes.”

“That I can do,” Artemus replied.

“Can I sit in?” Jim asked suddenly.

“Everyone can sit in if they want,” Eleanor replied, “the more people that become aware of this, the easier it will be to convince people that it’s not hocus-pocus, but has a scientific basis.”

“It will be hard to convince people,” Artemus said softly.

“We are already convinced,” Beth replied quietly, “as are most of our colleagues.  It is others who will prove difficult.”

“Even with the medical profession behind you?” James asked, a frown creasing the smooth forehead.

“Even with that, it smacks of the unknown and magic.”  Eleanor smiled, “and people are suspicious of the unknown.  We on the other hand-” she stole a quick grin at Beth.

“Some of us have first hand experience of it,” Beth said, “as and Tess said-”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Artemus murmured.

“Absolutely,” Beth replied, her eyes never leaving his face.  “Even the man who made the first forays into this technique did not have the same success when he returned to Scotland.”

“People did not believe that this _hypnosis_  would work?” American Knife asked slowly.

“That – and the concept itself.” Eleanor replied, “I can understand their scepticism to a degree, it can be regarded as unbelievable when seen in action.  But I promise that it works.”

“This man’s patients were _too_ narrow minded?” American Knife’s strong lips twitched, “I presume you and your colleagues believe in keeping an open mind.”

“I think with all the things we have all seen – an open mind is a necessity.”  Eleanor replied, “Elizabeth and Tess could tell you stories.”

“I know,” Artemus replied quietly, his eyes never leaving Beth’s face.

Jim leant back closing his eyes and releasing a long, low breath.  “What now?” he asked, not opening his eyes. “Do you want to change them immediately?” 

“If you need time to think about it-” Eleanor said quickly.

“No, I’m all right,” Jim smiled, “the last time you changed them it didn’t hurt, although I felt a bit groggy afterwards, let’s do it.”

He was settled back in bed and Eleanor said gently, “I’m going to talk you through a few things before I put you back into trance this time, all right?”

Jim nodded, his green eyes never leaving hers, “Go ahead.”

“I want to try and put you into what is known as an Esdaile state,” Eleanor began.

“After this Scottish doctor?” Jim enquired.

“Yes,” Eleanor nodded, “And you’ll be able to hear me all the time, you won’t be asleep.  You might also find your mind wandering and that’s fine too, when I’ve got you in this deep trance I shall ask Artemus to sit and talk with you – although you may not remember all of it. This time though we’ll have you lying down and I’ll use my necklace.”

Putting Jim back into a light trance was relatively easy.  Eleanor suspected that the reasons were twofold – first having experienced the hypnotic state he was no longer afraid and secondly that both Artemus and Beth were present.  Once she was sure that he was deeply hypnotised she began by reinforcing the post-hypnotic suggestions regarding his arms and then she began deepening his hypnotic state, “Jim, I know that you’re wonderfully relaxed  but there is an even deeper state of relaxation than the one you’re experiencing...to reach this level you must go down three more floors of relaxation.  We will call these floors A, B and C. To reach level ‘A’ you must double the relaxation you already have...when you reach that floor you are to say the letter ‘A’ very clearly, it will only take a few moments.” Eleanor took a sip of her coffee and watched Jim’s face.

His mouth opened and he spoke, “A.”

“Very good, Jim.  Now to get to floor ‘B’, you must go twice as deep as you did for floor ‘A’.  So you must double your relaxation again, when you reach floor ‘B’ you will find it difficult to pronounce the letter ‘B’ but I want you to try your hardest, it will only take a few moments.”

She watched as a few moments later, Jim’s lips moved but no sound emerged, her heart in her throat she continued, “Now you’re going down to floor ‘C’, to reach floor ‘C’ you must double your relaxation one more time.  Letting go completely and really giving in to relaxation.  Once you have doubled your relaxation and are really sure you have doubled it, try to say the letter ‘C’.  If you have truly doubled your relaxation you will find you won’t be able to form your lips sufficiently to say ‘C’, however I want you to try your utmost to say ‘C’.  This will only take a few moments.”  Eleanor took another sip of her coffee and stole a look across at Artemus.  There was a hard, set look on his face that scared her more than the procedure she was performing. 

Swallowing the last of the liquid, she turned back to her patient and said, “Jim, I want you to try and lift your right leg for me.”

Her eyes flicked down as she saw the muscles in his thigh twitch slightly, but the leg itself didn’t move.

“Now Jim, I want you to try and open your eyes,” she continued.  Watching his face she was pleased to see there was no movement at all in the small muscles surrounding his eyes.  Stepping off the bed she carefully slid her hands beneath Jim’s bandaged arm and lifted it off the bed.  She held it gently for a few moments and then slowly drew her hands away.

Artemus stared astonished as the arm remained where she’d placed it.  Gently, she eased it back down onto the sheet and finally turned to Artemus, “Would you get the lantern for me please, Mr Gordon, and hold it up just over his head.”

He nodded and lighting the lantern, brought it across to the bed.  “I’m going to lift each of his eyelids and I want you to hold the lantern close to his eyelids.  If he’s in a deeply relaxed state, his pupils should remain fixed and dilated.”  Artemus swallowed hard, and did as asked.  Gently she raised each eyelid and then she nodded at him.  “You can blow that out now, Mr Gordon.  Then hand me that instrument over there.”

Artemus looked across to the table and fetched the glinting, silver object.  It reminded him of a pair of scissors.  Nodding her thanks, Eleanor took the item from him and Artie had to suppress a yelp of protest as she fastened them onto the skin on West’s upper arm.  Artemus opened his mouth as if to say something and then he looked across at his friend’s face, Jim lay back against the pillows, his face relaxed and peaceful.

Carefully, Eleanor removed the instrument and gently rubbed the area she’d clamped, “I think we can begin, Artemus.”  She laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder and said softly, “Artie will stay with you and talk to you, I need to go and get a refill.”

“You’ll send Netis and American Knife in?” Beth asked.

“Yes,” Eleanor replied.

“Will you come back?” Artemus asked quickly.

“I will,” Eleanor promised.

 


	18. Chapter 18

** Chapter 18 **

 

The others nodded to her as she slipped into the varnish car and she was alone.  Sighing, she slumped into the chair and ran her right hand across her face, willing herself not to collapse in a heap of hysterical female.  Pulling a handkerchief from the ‘pocket’ of her dress she blew her nose and wiped her eyes.  Taking a deep breath she stood up and straightening her shoulders, she went back into the second carriage.

Elizabeth and Netis were bent over Jim’s arms, the bandages and wax paper had been removed and both of them were examining the burns.  Eleanor had to swallow against the nausea rising in her gullet.  Artemus looked up and beckoned her towards him, “Come over here and sit down.”

She managed another faint nod and moved across to ease herself into the chair next to Artemus.  He moved his hand to lay it on hers and squeezed it encouragingly.  “Now, Ellie,” he said conversationally, “what have you been doing with yourself since we saw you last?”

_Afterwards Jim would only retain fractured memories of his experience.  His overwhelming memory was of total and complete relaxation; his body felt as though it was floating, drifting away into a wonderful euphoria.  Occasionally he would drift back to hear Artemus and Eleanor’s voices talking to him and each other.  Reassured that he was safe and there was no pain, he would relax deeper and float away again._

Netis finished fastening the bandage and looked up at Eleanor, “Done,” she said tersely.

Eleanor nodded, she took another sip of her coffee and then got to her feet, “Right,” she grinned, “I’ll just bring him out of it.”

She moved so that she was sitting on the bed and cleared her throat, “Jim, I know you’re relaxed and you’re feeling absolutely wonderful,” laying her hand on his shoulder she continued, “I’m speaking to Jim’s subconscious, I’m offering my hand for safety and security; so now as I count from ten to one I am asking that you please surface.  Now, ten, slowly coming up; nine, coming up very slowly; eight, coming up more and more; seven, coming up relaxed and calm; six, becoming aware of your body; five, coming up more and more; four, coming up refreshed; three, almost all the way up; two, eyes slowly starting to open; one, eyes open, all the way up.  Feeling relaxed and marvellous.”

Jim blinked and looked up at them, Eleanor smiled down at him, “How are you feeling, Sweetheart?”

“There’s no pain,” he murmured, he stared up at her, “There’s _no_ pain.  Whatever you did, that’s astounding.”

Eleanor laid her hand on his shoulder, “It’s a technique that anyone can learn – and one I would be honoured to teach.”

“And I would be honoured to learn,” Artemus murmured, smiling down into his friend’s face.  “You look much better, Jim.”

West smiled and asked, “Did you redress my arms?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Eleanor nodded, “and they won’t need redressing for another two days.”

Jim managed a wry grin, “I don’t actually remember much of the experience – just a feeling of euphoria.  I have vague memories of you and Artie talking to me-”

“Every experience of trance differs,” Eleanor replied.

“Can I get up now?” Jim asked.

“I should think so,” Eleanor replied, “Artemus, I’m just going to fetch myself another coffee.”

“We’ll join you when I’ve got Jim dressed,” Artems replied.

She nodded not trusting her voice and then she was gone.  She sat down on the settee and wrapped her arms around herself trying to still her shivering, cursing inwardly when the attempt had no effect.  A warm hand touched her shoulder and she looked up to see American Knife standing next ot her, “It will be all right,” he said firmly.  “He’ll be all right.”

Eleanor ran a hand across her face, “It was the shock of seeing the burns.”

“That I can understand,” American Knife replied.

Eleanor wiped her face with her handkerchief and managed a wan smile at the man standing next to her.  He poured her another coffee and pushed it back across the table.  Giving him a wan smile, she picked it up and took a swallow of the scalding liquid. 

“Finish that, and go back into the carriage.  He will need to see you.” American Knife said firmly.

Eleanor nodded and then she was alone.  She drained the last of the bitter liquid and then rising to her feet, slipped through to the first carriage.

Artemus was just buttoning Jim’s shirt as his friend sat on the edge of the bed when she entered the carriage, “Hey, Ellie,” he smiled.  “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor smiled.  “Everything catching up with me I think.”

“Ellie,” Jim said softly, “come here and kiss me.”

Blushing crimson from her neck to her hairline she walked across to the man seated on the edge of the bed.  Gently so as not to hurt him, she touched her lips to his.

Stepping back she saw the wicked glint in his eyes, “I said, ‘Kiss me,’”

“Not in company, Jim,” Eleanor protested, “a good girl does not do such things.”

Jim raised an eyebrow and both Artemus and Beth chuckled, “Ten minutes,” Artemus replied.

When they were alone, Eleanor moved so that she was standing between Jim’s legs and raised her hand to cup his face.  “Woman,” he growled, “I told you, you unman me.” A soft groan emerged from between his lips, “Gods, Eleanor.  You’re incorrigible!”

“Oh I do hope so,” she wickedly, as she moved to kiss him again.  Jim moaned again the kiss deepening as he did so.  Eventually they parted and Jim leant forward, pressing his forehead against hers.  They stayed like that for a long moment and then Jim sighed, “We’d better go and face the music.”

Eleanor stroked the side of his face and said, “It will get better, Dear Heart.”

“How long?”

“A couple of months before you can handle a gun again I suspect.”

Jim opened his eyes and Eleanor saw the shine of tears in them and she gently drew his head onto her right shoulder and held him for a long moment. Eventually he lifted his head and managed a shaky smile at her.  “Thank you.”

She kissed him again, more gently this time and tasted salt, stroking the skin beside his left eyebrow she said, “I promise you will get better.”

He smiled and for a moment looked almost like the old Jim West.  Eleanor stepped back and managing a smile herself said, “I’ll get the door, sweetheart.”

Jim nodded and stepped off the bed, Eleanor gave him a bright, quick smile and then turned and opened the door.  Jim nodded and stepped through.  Everyone was chatting quietly and despite himself, Jim suddenly felt uncomfortable.  Artemus looked up and a broad smile lit up Gordon’s face.

“At last!” Artie grinned, “I thought you two were going into hibernation!  Coffee, Jim?”

“That would be great, Artie,” West eased himself down into one of the chairs next to the table and watched as his friend poured two cups of coffee.   Eleanor smiled at his friend and then carried her beverage across to the settee opposite Elizabeth and Netis.

“I think I’m going to prescribe an afternoon nap for you,” Beth said almost sternly, “you look washed out.”

Eleanor managed a wry grin, “Maybe you’re right, Elizabeth.  It’s been somewhat trying.”

Netis took a sip of her coffee and smiled, “You can certainly say that again.”

“It’s been a long four days,” Eleanor replied.  She looked up at Artemus, “Any idea when we’ll be arriving at Persephone?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Artemus replied.

“I’m going to be bored out of my skull,” Jim complained.

“I don’t know about that,” Beth replied, “I think both of you can contribute much.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Jim scowled, “I’m totally helpless – how much use am I going to be to a bunch of girls?”

“There are unlikely to be many girls there,” Beth said sharply, perhaps a little _too_ sharply because Artemus gave her a quick look, but she continued, “one of the reasons we chose _La Casa_ was because it would be quiet – for both of you.” She gave Eleanor a hard look, “and you both need rest.”

“I shall be bored out of my skull,” Jim muttered again.

“We’ll find something to do,” Eleanor promised. 

“We’ve got a full complement of staff,” Beth promised, “you won’t be alone.  But I will extract a promise from you, Mr West.”

“What sort of promise?” Jim regarded her quietly.

“Don’t use your charisma on the staff to try and escape.” 

Jim gave her a wry look and then he said, “You know me too well, Dr MacKenzie.  All right, you have my word.”

Beth regarded him quietly, and then nodded, “All right. You’ll look after one another?” This last was to Eleanor.

“Yes, Beth.  We will.” Eleanor promised.

Beth nodded and then said, “Drink your coffee, Eleanor and then I’m putting you to bed.”

“Yes, Mother,” Eleanor grinned.

Beth helped her change into pyjamas and then settled her into bed. “Get some sleep,” she ordered.  “I’ll come and wake you in a couple of hours.”

Eleanor didn’t think she’d sleep, but as she relaxed, her eyes closed and she drifted into slumber.  It was her bladder that roused her.  Propping herself up on her good arm she looked around.  Someone had obviously been in to check on her, and covered her with a blanket.  As she sat up, the door opened and Beth entered the room, “You’re awake at long last,” she smiled.

“I need to use the facilities,” Eleanor smiled.

Beth nodded, “I’ll assist you with that.  Tell me what you want me to do.”

Jim was sitting in one of the chairs talking softly with Angharad when they emerged into the main body of the varnish car.  “Ellie,” he murmured, relief filling the green eyes.

“Jim,” she murmured, easing herself down next to him.  “Are you all right?”

“I was just worried about you,” he said.

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, “I know, Honey, I know.”

She heard a soft chuckle from Artemus and lifted her head to see a faint pink blush rising up Jim’s cheeks, “James-my-boy, I do believe the young lady has flustered you.”

Jim looked down, the lashes making dark semi-circles on his cheeks, “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, Artie.”

“I know,” Artie replied gently, “but you’ve no need to hide your feelings for Eleanor from us.  We’ve known how you felt for months.”

Jim looked up quickly, “Am I that obvious?” he demanded.

“Only to me,” Artemus said, “but then I’ve known you a few years, Jim.  And as for the others-”  He looked up at Beth, Angharad and American Knife, “your secrets are safe with us.”

“Secrets?” Eleanor frowned.

“We know you feel the same way about him,” Artemus smiled.

Jim turned to the young woman, “So, Sweetheart, what next?”

“First we get to _La Casa_ and get well,” she replied, “and go on from there.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be fit again,” Jim muttered.

“You will,” Eleanor promised, “you will.”

Artemus served coffee and when they were all seated Eleanor turned to him, “When did you realize?” she asked quietly.

“Not at first,” Artie admitted, “Jim’s a very private person, especially where his personal life is concerned.  But he was remarkably close mouthed when it came to you.  Normally he has no problem relating the manner of his conquests, but this time-”

Ellie laid her hand on Jim’s upper arm, above the bandages, “I’m sorry, love, have we embarrassed you?”

Jim managed a wry smile, “It had to come out sooner or later,” he sighed, “although I’d have preferred it later.  You know, pick my own time and place.”

“If you’re thinking that there’s such an animal as the right time or the right place, then I’m sorry to disillusion you, but it doesn’t exist,” Eleanor replied.

He laughed softly and then to Eleanor’s amazement, turned his head to touch his lips to hers, “Woman, as I said before.  You unman me.”

Eleanor smiled, “Oh, I hardly think so, Jim.”

“When we get to _La Casa_ tomorrow,” Beth said, “and you two will rest and recuperate.”

“Yes, Mother,” Jim replied, a smile curving the strong lips.

Beth grinned back and then looked up at Artemus, “Do you need some help with supper, Sweetheart?”

“That’d be great,” Artie grinned.  He held open the door leading to the galley and Beth stretched up and kissed him before slipping through to the galley.

“Jim,” American Knife sat down next to him, “drink your coffee.”

West scowled, but allowed American Knife to assist him.  Eleanor picked up her cup and sipped her own beverage, despite her earlier doze, she still felt shattered.  She raised her eyes from the cup to see Jim regarding her thoughtfully.

“This is getting to you isn’t it?” she said sympathetically.

He managed a wry smile, “Just a bit.”

“I know the feeling.” Eleanor smiled, “lots of sleep is prescribed I think.”

Jim nodded, “Definitely.”  He looked down at the bandages covering his hands.

“Can you flex them?” Eleanor asked quickly.

Jim frowned and curled his hands slightly, “Yes, they feel odd, but I can move them.”

“Good,” Eleanor replied.

“What about your hand?” Jim enquired.

Eleanor tentatively flexed the fingers of her left hand then ran the index finger of her right around her ring and pinkie fingers.  The sensation was odd – like permanent pins and needles in both fingers.  It was uncomfortable and slightly painful.  She looked up at Jim seeing only compassion in those brilliant eyes.   “Some nerve damage, I think,” she replied, “might put the kybosh on my safe cracking abilities.”

“Get Artie to mix you some of his metal eating chemicals,” Jim grinned.

“Now there’s a thought,” Eleanor responded, leaning in for another kiss.

Jim obliged and then laughed softly, “Eleanor, you’re incorrigible!”

“Absolutely,” she replied, her eyes holding his, the same smile mirrored on her face.

At that moment the door to the galley opened and Artemus and Elizabeth entered the varnish car, both of them carrying large trays.  Artie set his tray on the table and Beth nudged im gently, “Go and see to your friend,” she urged, “I’ll see to supper.”

Artemus flashed her a grateful smile and then he was moving across to the couch.  Then his hands were on Jim’s waist, steadying him as the younger man rose to his feet.  Jim flicked a quick look around the carriage, still embarrassed, but again there was no visible reaction from the others and he felt another wave of relief wash over him.  Artemus pulled out a chair and gratefully, Jim eased himself into it and Artemus gave his friend a hard, reassuring squeeze before moving away.  Eleanor seated herself opposite and watched as Artemus served everyone, each movement as fluid and graceful as a dancer.  Finally when everyone had been served, including himself Artemus sat down next to his friend, shook out Jim’s napkin and tucked it into West’s shirt.  “It’s only omelette,” he explained.

“It looks wonderful,” Mr Gordon.  Netis replied.

“Artie, please,” Gordon smiled, cutting into Jim’s meal, “I think we have been through too much to start being so formal.”

“Perhaps, Mr Gordon,” American Knife replied, “but I think my betrothed might feel that the use of first names is too informal.”

“Nevertheless,” Artemus replied, “we six have been through something unique and I count you all as friends.”

“Then we are honoured,” American Knife replied.  “Are we not, Beloved?”  He looked across at the young women sitting next to Eleanor.

“We are indeed,” she replied, her gaze holding that of the man seated next to West.

“”Well don’t stand on ceremony,” Artemus waved his fork, “eat!”

A ripple of laughter fluttered around the table, then Eleanor picked up her fork and using the side of it like a knife, cut into her omelette.

On her left, Beth began buttering a slice of bread and when she’d finished she laid it on Eleanor’s plate.  Eleanor looked up and gave her a quick nod of thanks.  Meanwhile, Artie was cutting Jim’s into Jim’s meal and spearing a piece of egg with the fork, offered it to his friend.

Seated at opposite ends of the table as they were, both Jim and Eleanor couldn’t help but catch the other’s eye on occasion.  As the conversation flowed around them, Eleanor would remember it as one of the most surreal experiences of her life.  All of them sitting around the table; Artie sitting next to Jim, expounding the virtues of _Hamlet_ over _King Lear_ ; Beth asking American Knife about his studies at Dartmouth;  Harry, her eyes dark and thoughtful, occasionally asking Artemus about his varied stage experience and all the while Jim, seated at the opposite end of the table, quiet and thoughtful throughout.  Once or twice their eyes would meet and hold as though they shared a private secret.  She would hold his gaze for a few seconds and Jim’s eyes would light up as if a lantern had been ignited behind them. 

When supper was over and both Beth and Artemus had cleared away, they retired to the settees.  Despite her sleep earlier, Eleanor still felt weary.  Artemus served coffee and then he regarded them both semi-sternly.  “Bed after this,” he said, semi-sternly,   “You both look drained.”

Scowling Eleanor nodded, “Yes, Artemus, you’re right.  I could definitely do with a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you still in pain?” Beth asked, concern etching her voice.

“No, not really,” Eleanor smiled, “I just find it difficult to get comfortable.”

“We’ll try and manage that,” Beth promised. 

“Makes two of us,” West replied, “I know you extol the virtues of hypnosis, Ellie, but would you mind if I took of American Knife’s concoctions tonight?”

“Not at all, Sweetheart,” Eleanor replied, “both sedation and hypnosis should be used as adjuncts to one another.  If American Knife is willing, I think I might do the same.”

American Knife smile, “It would be my pleasure.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own James West/Artemus Gordon or The Wild Wild West, they belong to CBS Productions. I have just taken the characters out of their box to play with for a little while.


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